

^^ rl 





a...J^/^3JJ 



Book n I ^/ 

CopyZ 



Copyright N" 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIR 



LONGMANS' ENGLISH CLASSICS 

EDITED BY 

GEORGE RICE CARPENTER, A.B., 

Professor of Rhetoric and English Composition in Columbia College. 

This series is designed for use in secondary schools in accordance 
with the system of study recommended and outlined by the National 
Committee of Ten, and in direct preparation for the uniform entrance 
requirements in English, now adopted by the principal American colleges 
and universities. 

Each volume contains full Notes, Introductions, Bibliographies, 
and other explanatory and illustrative matter. Crown 8vo, cloth. 

Books Prescribed for the i8gy Examinations, 

FOR READING. 

Shakspere's As You Like It. With an introduction by Barrett 
Wendell, A.B., Assistant Professor of English in Harvard Univer- 
sity, and notes by William Lyon Phelps, Ph.D., Instructor in 
English Literature in Yale University. 

Defoe's History of the Plague in London. Edited, with intro- 
duction and notes, by Professor G. R. Carpenter, of Columbia 
College. With Portrait of Defoe. 

Irving's Tales of a Traveller. With an introduction by Brander 
Matthews, Professor of Literature in Columbia College, and ex- 
planatory notes by the general editor of the series. With Portrait of 
Irving. 

George Eliot's Silas Marner. Edited, with introduction and notes, 
by Robert Herrick, A.B.. Assistant Professor of Rhetoric in the 
University of Chicago. With Portrait of George Eliot. 

FOR STUDY. 

Shakspere's Merchant of Venice. Edited, with introduction and 
notes, by Francis B. Gummere, Ph.D., Professor of English in 
Haverford College. With Portrait of Shakspere. 

Burke's Speech on Conciliation with America. Edited, with 
introduction and notes, by Albert S. Cook, Ph.D., L.H.D., 
Professor of the English Language and Literature in Yale University. 
With Portrait of Burke. 

Scott's Marmion. Edited, with introduction and notes, by Robert 
MoRSS LovETT, A.B., Assistant Professor of English in the 
University of Chicago. With Portrait of Sir Walter Scott. 

Macaulay's Life of Samuel Johnson. Edited, with introduction 
and notes, by the Rev. Huber Gray Buehler, of the Hotchkiss 
School, Lakeville, Co n. With Portrait of Johnson. 



LONGMANS' ENGLISH CLASSICS— Continued, 
Books Prescribed for the i8g8 Examinations. 

FOJi READING. 

Milton's Paradise Lost. Books I. and II. Edited, with introduc- 
tion and notes, by Edward Everett Hale, Jr., Ph.D., Professor 
of Rhetoric and Logic in Union College. With Portrait of Milton. 

Pope's Homer's Iliad. Books I., VI., XXIL, and XXIV. Edited, 
with introduction and notes, by William H. Maxwell, A.M., 
Superintendent of Public Instruction, Brooklyn, N.Y., and Percival 
Chubb, of the Manual Training High School, Brooklyn. With 
Portrait of Pope. 

The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers, from "The Spectator." 
Edited, with introduction and notes, by D. O. S. Lowell. A.M., 
English Master in the Roxbury Latin School, Roxbury, Mass. With 
Portrait of Addison. 

Goldsmith's The Vicar of Wakefield. Edited, with introduction 
and notes, by Mary A. Jordan, A.M., Professor of Rhetoric and 
Old English in Smith College. With Portrait of Goldsmith. 

Coleridge's The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. Edited, with 
introduction and notes, by Herbert Bates, A B. Instructor in 
English in the University of Nebraska. With Portrait of Coleridge. 

Southey's Life of Nelson. Edited, with introduction and notes, by 
Edwin L. Miller, A.M., of the Englewood High School, Illinois. 
With Portrait of Nelson. 

Carlyle's Essay on Burns. Edited, with introduction and notes, by 
Wilson Farrand, A.M., Associate Principal of the Newark Acad- 
emy, Newark, N. J. With Portrait of Burns. 

FOR STUDY. 

Shakspere's Macbeth. Edited, with introduction and notes, by 
John Matthews Manly, Ph.D., Professor of the English Language 
in Brown University. With Portrait of Shakspere. 

Burke's Speech on Conciliation with America. Edited, with 
introduction and notes, by Albert S, Cook, Ph.D., L.H.D., 
Professor of the English Language and Literature in Yale University. 
With Portrait of Burke. 

De Quincey's Flight of a Tartar Tribe. Edited, with introduc- 
tion and notes, by Charles Sears Baldwin, Ph.D., Instructor in 
Rhetoric in Yale University. With Portrait of De Quincey. 

Tennyson's The Princess. Edited, with introduction and notes, by 
George Edward Woodberry, A.B., Professor of Literature in 
Columbia College. With Portrait of Tennyson. 

*;(.* Sec list of the series at end of volume for books prescribed for 
i8gg and igoo. 



LONGMANS' ENGLISH CLASSICS 

EDITED BY 

GEORGE RICE CARPENTER, A. B. 

PBOFEBSOR OF BHETORIO AND ENGLISH COMPOSITION IN COLUMBIA COLLEGB 



SIR WALTER SCOTT 



MARMION 



LONGMAlSrS' ENGLISH CLASSICS 

With full Notes, Introductions, Bibliographies, and other Explanatory and 
Illustrative Matter. Crown 8vo. Cloth. 



Shakspere's Merchant of Venice. 
Edited by Francis B. Gummere,Ph.D., 
Professor of English in Haverford 
College. 

Shakspeee's As You Like It. With 
an Introduction by Barrett Wendell, 
A.B., Assistant Professor of English 
in Harvard University, and Notes by 
William Lyon Phelps, Ph.D., Instruc- 
tor in English Literature in Yale 
University, 

Shakspere's a Midsummer Night's 
Dream. Edited by George Pierce 
Baker, A.B., Assistant Professor of 
English in Harvard University. 

Shakspeee's Macbeth. Edited by 
John Matthews Manly, Ph.D., Pro- 
fessor of the English Language in 
Brown University, 

Milton's L'Allegro, II Penseroso, 
CoMus, and Ltcidas. Edited by 
William P. Trent, A.M., Professor of 
English in the University of the South, 

Milton's Paradise Lost. Books I. 
AND II. Edited bv Edward Everett 
Hale, Jr., Ph.D., Professor of Rhetoric 
and Logic in Union College. 

Pope's Homee's Iliad. Books I., 
VI., XXII., AND XXIV. Edited by 
William H. Maxwell, A.M., Ph.D., 
Superintencient of Public Instruction, 
Brooklyn, N. Y., and Percival Chubb, 
Instructor in English, Manual Training 
High School, Brooklyn. 

Defoe's History or the Plagtte in 
London. Edited bv Professor G. R. 
Carpenter, of Columbia College. 

The Sir Roger de Coverlet Papers, 
from "The Spectator." Edited bv 
D. O. S. Lowell, A.M., of the Roxbury 
Latin School, Roxbury, Mass. 

Goldsmith's The Vicar of Wakefield. 
Edited by Mary A. Jordan, A.M., 
Professor of Rhetoric and Old English 
in Smith College. 

Burke's Speech on Conciliation with 
America. Edited by Albert S. ('ook, 
Ph.D., L.H.D.. Professor of the Eng- 
lish Language and Literature in Y'ale 
University. 



Scott's Woodstock. Edited by Bliss 
Perry, A.M., Professor of Oratory 
and Esthetic Criticism in Princeton 
College. 

Scott's Marmion. Edited by Robert 
Morss Lovett, A.B., Assist^int Pro- 
fessor of English in the University of 
Chicago. 

Macaulat's Essay on Milton. Edited 
by James Greenleaf Croswell. A.B., 
Head-master of the Brearley School, 
New Y'ork. formerly Assistant Pro- 
fessor of Greek in Harvard University. 

Macaulat's Life of Samuel Johnson. 
Edited by the Rev. Huber Gray 
Buehler, of the Hotchkiss School, 
Lakeville, Conn. 

Irving's Tales or a Traveller. With 
an Introduction by Brander Matthews, 
Professor of Literature in Columbia 
College, and Explanatory Notes by the 
general editor of the series. 

Webster's First Bunker Hill Ora- 
tion, together with other Addresses 
relating to the Revolution. Edited by 
Fred Newton .scott, Ph.D., Junior 
Professor of Rhetoric in the University 
of Michigan. 

Coleridge's The Rime of the Ancient 
Maeiner. Edited by Herbert Bates, 
A.B., formerly Instructor in English 
in the University of Nebraska. 

Southey's Life OF Nelson. Edited by 
Edwin L. Miller, A.M., of the Engle- 
wood High School, Illinois. 

Carlyle's Essay on Burns. Edited 
by Wilson Farrand, A.M., Associate 
Principal of the Newark Academy, 
Newark, N. J. 

De Quincey's Flight of a Tartar 
Tribe (Revolt of the Tartars). 
Edited by Charles Sears Baldwin, 
Ph.D., Instructor in Rhetoric in Yale 
University. 

Tennyson's The Princess. Edited by 
George Edward Woodberry, A. B., 
Professor of Literature in Columbia 
College. 

George Eliot's Silas Marner. Edited 
by Robert Herrick. A.B., Assistant 
Professor of Rhetoric in the University 
of Chicago. 



Other Volumes are in Preparation. 




SIR WALTER SCOTT 
(After the portrait by Raeburn) 



Congmons' (Englisli Classics 



Sm WALTER SCOTT'S 



M A R M I O N 



EDITED 

WITH NOTES AND AN INTRODUCTION 
BY 

ROBERT MORSS LOVETT, A.B. 

ASSISTANT PBOFESSOB OF ENGLISH IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO 




/^^^'^^?^-^'Gh7,^ 



OCT10^B96 

NEW YORK ^^^ \ 

LONGMANS, GREEN, AND 00. 

LONDON AND BOMBAY 
1896 



.Al 

Copy 



Copyright, 1896 

BY 

LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 



TROW DIRECTORY 

PRINTINQ AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY 

NEW YORK 



PREFACE 

Ik the Introduction to this edition of Scott's " Marmion" 
the editor has tried to present the author and the book as 
genuine human products resulting from certain well-defined 
spiritual conditions, and in this way to suggest to the stu- 
dent something of the powerful appeal which author and 
book made to the imagination of the men and women whose 
attention they first claimed. Every literary work, however 
great its interest and value, must depend in our own day, 
to some extent, upon the historical faculty of its readers. 
The most valid reason for the selection of " Marmion '' as 
a text-book for schools is that it offers admirable material 
for training this historical sense for literature. 

In preparing the text of the present edition the editor 
has relied for the most part on the text of 1830 (the last 
revision for which Scott was personally responsible) and on 
that of Lockhart's Standard Edition. In a few cases a 
word has been adopted from an earlier edition, but in the 
main the readings can be referred to one of these two. In 
the matter of spelling, punctuation, and capitals, it was 
the editor's original intention to allow the poem to stand 
as Scott himself left it in 1830. However, as there is no 
reason to suppose that Scott himself regarded this edition 
as final, and inasmuch as the spelling adopted by Lockhart 
is so generally accepted that a reversion to an earlier stand- 
ard might seem a deliberate assumption of oddity, the 
spelling of Lockhart's edition has usually been followed. 



vi PREFACE 

In the matter of punctuation, the editor has accepted sug- 
gestions made by Mr. Kolfe and others, and, further, has 
removed superfluous marks of punctuation where these 
made the text difficult to understand or to read. 

In the notes the aim has been to give such information 
as the student will not find accessible in an ordinary dic- 
tionary. All of Scott's notes have not been reproduced, 
but the necessary omissions have been confined almost en- 
tirely to quotations from other writers. 

R. M. L. 

University op Chicago, August, 1896. 



CONTENTS 

Introduction : taqb 

I. The Author ix 

II. "Marraion" ........ xviii 

III. The Metre xxvii 

Suggestions for Teachers and Students .... xxxi 

Chronological Table xxxv 

Marmion : A Tale of Flodden Field 1 

Advertisement 4 

Introduction to the Edition of 1830 5 

Introduction to Canto 1 11 

Canto 1 21 

Introduction to Canto II 39 

Canto II .47 

Introduction to Canto III 67 

Canto III 74 

Introduction to Canto IV. ....... 93 

Canto IV 100 

Introduction to Canto V 121 

Canto V 127 

Introduction to Canto VI 158 

Canto VI 165 

L'Envoy .199 

Map to Illustrate "Marmion" ...... 200 

Notes 201 

Suggested Examination Questions and Topics for Further 

Study 267 

Index to Notes ......... 269 



INTRODUCTION 

I. THE AUTHOR. 

Sir Walter Scott was born in Edinburgh, August 15, 
1771. He was a strong, sturdy infant, and although af- 
fected in his second year by a teething fever which left him 
permanently lame, his rugged constitution was unimpaired, 
and he remained always active, devoted to out-door life. 
In consequence of his early illness he was sent to live with 
his grandfather at Sandy-Knowe, where much of his child- 
hood was spent. After his return to Edinburgh he began 
his studies, which continued regularly for only a compara- 
tively short time, since at the age of fifteen he was ap- 
prenticed to his father, an attorney or "writer to the 
Signet."' He began at this time his legal studies, which he 
afterwards continued at the University. His preparation 
for the law was much interrupted by excursions about the 
country in pursuit of picturesque or historical interest, so 
that his father once told him, contemptuously, that he was 
better fitted for a pedler than for a lawyer. Nevertheless, 
in 1792, he was called to the bar, and continued to practise 
with varying success for fourteen years. 

While yet a student he formed a romantic attachment 
for Margaret Belches, but though his attentions lasted 
for upwards of six years, she finally married Sir William 
Forbes. A year later Scott himself married the daughter 
of a French royalist of Lyons, Charlotte Margaret Char- 
pentier. His worldly prospects were not brilliant, for his 
reputation for irregularity stood in the way of rapid pro- 
gress at the bar. Shortly after his marriage, however, he 
was appointed Sheriff of Selkirkshire. This promotion 
made it possible for him to move his family from the little 



X INTRODUCTION 

cottage at Lass wade, a few miles from Edinburgh, where he 
had at lirst settled, to Ashestiel, where he remained from 
1804 to 1812. Meantime he obtained the position of Clerk 
of the Court of Sessions at Edinburgh, and in 1812, when 
this position began to yield him a substantial income, be 
purchased the estate with which his name is always con- 
nected, Abbotsford. 

By this time, however, Scott had another and greater 
source of income. His early attempts at literature, a trans- 
lation of Biirger's ''Leonore,'" in 1796, and of Goethe's 
''Goetz von Berlichingen,'' in 1799, and some ballads of 
his own, were not startlingly successful, but in 1802 and 
1803 his publication of a collection of old ballads under the 
title ''The Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border/' with some 
additional poems of his own in the ballad manner, revealed 
his skill in dealing with the literature of the past and his 
own power as a poet, and also proved a remunerative venture 
financially. Encouraged by this, Scott published, in 1805, 
a poem in six cantos, called " The Lay of the Last Min- 
strel," which made an immediate hit, and which continued 
so popular that nearly fifty thousand copies were sold during 
Scott's lifetime. This success was decisive. Scott was hence- 
forth not a lawyer but a man of letters. The next year he 
brought out a further collection of lyrical poems, and under- 
took several difficult pieces of editing, the most important 
of which, the works of Dryden, appeared in 1808. This 
year saw also the publication of Scott's second great work, 
" Marmion," for the copyright of which he received £1,000. 
In the next few years the series of Scott's literary successes 
was continued by ^^The Lady of the Lake" (1810), ^^ The 
Vision of Don Roderick" (1811), ^^Rokeby" (1813), and 
'' The Lord of the Isles " (1815). 

It was the astonishing success of these poems that enabled 
Scott to purchase Abbotsford and to spend great sums on 
its improvement. But he had also a third, though secret, 
source of income. In 1805 Scott entered into silent part- 
nership with an Edinburgh printer, James Ballantyne ; 
four years afterwards they added to the printing business 



INTR OB UGTION xi 

that of a j)nblishing house, James Banaiityne & Co. This 
hitter venture was badly conducted, and soon after Scott's 
removal to Abbotsford it became a source of very great 
anxiety to him. Moreover, about this time Scott's vogue 
as a poet began to diminish. The sameness of his material 
and style palled on his readers. Byron was becoming a 
dangerous rival. And while Scott's resources were thus 
diminished on two sides by the threatening condition of his 
publishing business and by the diminution of his popularity 
as a poet, his expenses in connection with his establishment 
at Abbotsford were constantly increased. This pressure 
forced Scott, at the age of forty-three, into the great work 
of his life. 

In 1805 Scott had j^lanned and begun a prose tale of the 
Rebellion of '45. In the summer of 1814 he finished it and 
published it anonymously under the name of its hero, 
'^ Waverley." The book revived Scott's earlier success. He 
followed it the next year (1815) by ^'Guy Mannering," and 
in 1816 by '' The Antiquary " and '' Old Mortality." Every 
year the list of stories by the unknown author of '' Waverley " 
grew, sometimes by two, sometimes by three, novels. At 
the same time Scott was constantly engaged in editing 
works of historical or antiquarian interest. The number and 
the size of his literary undertakings, apart from his novels, 
were enormous, involving such great single tasks as editing 
the works of Swift and writing the life of Xapoleon. With 
the proceeds of these literary productions, increased by his 
direct connection with the printing and publishing world 
through the firms of Ballantyne and Constable, Scott drew 
near to the accomplishment of his dream of founding a great 
family. He increased the estate of Abbotsford, and rebuilt 
the mansion. He was knighted in 1820. At the same period 
his hospitality was unbounded. To support these expenses 
he found it necessary to accept from his publishers advanced 
payments on work not yet performed. Thus his affairs were 
again becoming involved, when all his plans were broken, 
in 1826, by the failure of Constable, which dragged down 
the firm of James Ballantyne with liabilities of £117,000. 



Xii INTRODUCTION 

Scott met the crisis with characteristic courage, and a 
wisdom which he had not always shown. He diminished 
his establishment, sold his Edinburgh house, and pledged 
his Abbotsford property as security for his payment of the 
debt. Then he went to work with his pen to earn the 
sum owed. He published " Woodstock ^^ immediately, the 
^' Life of Napoleon ^^ the next year, and " The Fair Maid 
of Perth ^' the year after. But he no longer worked with 
his old facility. Although these later novels do not show 
any marked falling off in style or in imaginative concep- 
tion, yet Scott himself was constantly tortured by the fear 
lest his magic wand should break in his hand. Other 
sorrows came to him. In 1826 Lady Scott died. In 1830 
he suffered a slight paralytic shock. The next year, while 
attending an election at Jedburgh, in the height of the 
excitement over the Reform Bill, he was flouted and cried 
down by the crowd. The ^^ Burk Sir Walter'' of the 
Whig rabble seems to have been the sound that echoed 
most persistently in his dying ears. 

Dying he now was. In 1831 he completed his last two 
novels, " Count Robert of Paris'' and '^Castle Dangerous," 
which left his liabilities reduced by more than one-half. 
Indeed, the struggle was now practically over, for the value 
of the copyrights of earlier works was sufficient to cover 
the remainder of the debt. In this year he went abroad 
for rest, and visited Italy and Germany. But the disease 
which had threatened two years earlier closed in upon him 
rapidly. He was brought back to London almost too ill to 
speak. In September, 1832, he completed his journey to 
Abbotsford, only to die there. 

Scott's father was an Edinburgh attorney, a man of 
prim, methodical habits and painful integrity, from whom 
Scott undoubtedly inherited his conscientious industry as 
well as the unbending honesty with Avhich he weighed his 
obligations, and performed them. His grandfather was a 
man of different type, with something of the free way of 
handling life which belonged to his ancestors. The story 



INTRODUCTION xiii 

is told of him that he once went into partnership with a 
neighbor in raising sheep, the latter advancing £30 as 
capital. By the time that the neighbor had found a prom- 
ising flock Robert Scott had paid the entire sum for a 
horse, which, however, he soon sold for double the money. 
Lockhart relates that Scott would refer to this incident in 
the days of his business troubles. " Blood will out,^^ he 
would say ; " my planting and building was but his buying 
the hunter before he stocked his sheep-walk, over again." 

Scott's great-grandfather, also Walter Scott, was called 
Beardie, because he refused to cut his beard after the ex- 
pulsion of the Stuarts. He manifested his devotion to the 
cause of the exiles in more serious ways, which came near 
costing him his beard and his head likewise. Through him 
Sir Walter Scott was thus brought into direct and practical 
sympathy with one of the historical periods which he was 
to do so much to recreate. It is hardly an accident that 
his first novel dealt with the Stuart attempt of 1745, with 
which Scott, though born twenty-six years later, came into 
actual contact through his family. Still less is it an ac- 
cident that his first poem dealt with a story of the house 
to which his clan, the Scotts, owed allegiance, the house of 
Buccleuch. In the course of the poem Sir Walter makes 
occasional mention of the loyal services of his ancestor 
Walter Scott of Harden to the chief house of the Scotts 
(•' The Lay of the Last Minstrel," Canto IV., ix.), and his 
own dedication of the poem to the contemporary Duke of 
Buccleuch shows something of the same feudal spirit. Scott 
cared much for his family and his ancestry. His strong 
interest in his own relations with the past helped him to 
that vividness and directness in writing of former scenes 
and periods which make the chief glory of his work ; his 
attempts to reproduce that past in his own life led to his 
extreme misfortunes." 

Scott^'s grandmother on his father's side had much care 
of him as a child when he was at Sandy-Knowe. ^'My 
grandmother," he says in his autobiography, '^ in whose 
youth the old Border depredations were a matter of re- 



XIV INTRODUCTION 

cent tradition, used to tell me many a tale of Wat of 
Harden, wight Willie of Ailswood, Jamie Tellfer of the 
fair Dodhead, and other heroes/^ Scott^s mother, likewise, 
had a vivid memory. " She could draw," wrote Sir Walter, 
^''without the least exaggeration or affectation, the most 
striking pictures of the past age. If I have been able to 
do anything in the way of painting the past times, it is 
very much from the studies with which she presented me. 
She connected a long period of time with the present 
generation, for she remembered, and had often spoken with, 
a person who perfectly recollected the battle of Dunbar 
and Oliver CromwelFs subsequent entry into Edinburgh.'^ 

Thus Scott drew much of his material for his literary 
work from his immediate family. Other sources were not 
wanting. A constant visitor at his aunt's was Dr. Duncan, 
the clergyman of the parish, who ^^ had seen Pope and 
could talk familiarly of many of the characters who had 
survived the Augustan age of Queen Anne.'' His tutor, a 
retired clergyman, transmitted to him ^' a great acquaint- 
ance with the old books describing the early history of the 
Church of Scotland, the wars and sufferings of the Cove- 
nanters, and so forth." His father's friend, Alexander 
Stewart, of Invernahyle, in the Highlands, related to him 
his experiences in the insurrections of 1715 and 1745, and 
described his broadsword duel with Kob Eoy. Scott's 
first visit to this Stewart took place when he was about 
fifteen years old. From this time on he was a most 
indefatigable traveller — on foot in the neighborhood of 
Edinburgh, and on horseback through the more distant 
and less explored portions of Scotland — living with the 
people, hearing their stories and songs. It was to these 
journeys through the Border region that Scott owed 
much of the material which he used in " The Minstrelsy of 
the Scottish Border," as well as that intimate knowledge 
of the country which served him so well in his tales in 
prose and verse. 

In these wanderings the chief interest for Scott was his- 
torical, the connection of places with events of the past. 



INTRODUCTION XV 

He says himself : '' The wandering over the field of Ban- 
nockbiirn was the source of more exquisite pleasure than 
gazing upon the celebrated landscape from the battlements 
of Stirling Castle." Nevertheless, the charm of romantic 
scenery was always a strong inducement with Scott to 
undertake expeditions involving any amount of effort. 
His feeling for natural beauty first awoke, he tells us 
himself, at Kelso, where he stayed much with his aunt. 
Miss Janet Scott. Of Kelso and its influence he has left 
us a record in his own words : 

" The neighborhood of Kelso, the most beautiful, if not the 
most romantic village in Scotland, is eminently calculated to 
awaken these ideas. It presents objects, not only grand in 
themselves, but venerable from their association. The meet- 
ing of two superb rivers, the Tweed and the Teviot, both re- 
nowned in song, the ruins of an ancient Abbey, the more dis- 
tant vestiges of Roxburgh Castle, the modern mansion of 
Fleurs, which is so situated as to combine the ideas of ancient 
baronial grandeur with those of modern taste are in them- 
selves objects of the first class ; yet are so mixed, united, and 
melted among a thousand other beauties of a less prominent 
description, that they harmonize into one general picture, and 
please rather by unison than by concord. I believe I have 
written unintelligibly on this subject, but it is fitter for the 
pencil than the pen. The romantic feelings which I have de- 
scribed as predominating in my mind, naturally rested upon, 
and associated themselves with, these grand features of the 
landscape around me ; and the historical incidents, or tra- 
ditional legends connected with many of them, gave to my ad- 
miration a sort of intense impression of reverence, which at 
times made my heart feel too big for its bosom. From this 
time the love of natural beauty, more especially when com- 
bined with ancient ruins, or remains of our fathers' piety or 
splendor, became Avith me an insatiable passion, which, if cir- 
cumstances had permitted, I would willingly have gratified by 
travelling over half the globe." 

These two elements in Scott^s life and work — his interest 
in the past and his love for nature — connect him closely 
with the great literary movement of his day, which we arc 



Xvi INTRODUCTION 

accustomed to call Eomanticism. In the early eighteenth 
century the most prominent literary influence was classi- 
cal ; in poetry and in prose, Latin and Latin-French models 
were followed ; regularity, grace, elegance, were the chief 
literary virtues. The material with which literature dealt 
was drawn largely from the contemporary life of man, and 
from his social environment. Nature and man as an element 
in nature were less regarded as literary material, and in the 
deference paid to Latin and French models the influence 
of earlier English writers was diminished. Long before 
Scott began to write, however, a change made itself felt. 
Poets began to find worthy imaginative material in the life 
of nature, and in the life of man as influenced by nature 
and swayed by natural impulses. Cloyed by the refine- 
ment of treating nature only when artificialized by man, 
and man himself only when toned down by society and 
civilization, the literary appetite of the time demanded 
nature in her wildest, most untamed aspects, and man in 
his most independent, solitary, protesting attitudes. Such 
material as this was to be found in the past. In 1765 
Bishop Percy issued his collection of mediaBval ballads under 
the famous title, '' Reliques of Ancient English Poetry," 
and about this same time MacPherson brought out his pre- 
tended discovery of the poems of Ossian, an ancient bard 
of Scotland. They were followed by a whole school of 
writers, who ransacked the older literature for its most ro- 
mantic tales, or, when such could not be found, invented 
them, and threw over them the thin glamour of a sham 
antiquity. One of the earlier of these authors was Horace 
Walpole, who wrote " The Castle of Otranto ;" one of the 
later was Matthew Gregory Lewis, whose romance, " The 
Monk/'' made for him a brilliant reputation. 

With all this movement Scott was in hearty sympathy. 
His friend Irving told Lockhart how eagerly he and Scott 
read *^ The Castle of Otranto"' with other more genuine 
romances, and it is curious to remark that they chose for 
these readings the most savage and inaccessible nooks about 
Arthur's Seat, Salisbury Crags, or Blackford Hill. Later, 



INTRODUCTION xvii 

when Scott was just beginning his literary career, he met 
Lewis, and was glad to contribute to a collection which 
the latter was bringing out, called ^' Tales of Wonder," in 
regard to which Lewis stipulated that each story should 
contain either a ghost or a witch. Before this Scott had 
on his own account fed the appetite for the marvellous by 
his translations of Biirger's ^'Leonore" and ^^The Wild 
Huntsman." 

All this represented, it is true, one of the more superfi- 
cial elements of the romantic movement. That movement 
corresponded to a real change in men's minds from the 
classicism of the eighteenth century, an awakening to 
the value of action and passion in life, a growing percep- 
tion of the importance of man's natural environment as a 
means of spiritual growth, an increasing interest in man 
himself, apart from the accidents of his position or of arti- 
ficial distinctions. This change, as it made itself felt in 
English literature, was expressed most purely by Words- 
worth. But Wordsworth had not yet caught the people's 
ear. His message was too high, his consciousness of it too 
perfect, for him to become at once a popular poet. It was 
Scott, feeling the attractions of the new fields offered to 
the poet and exulting in the new freedom with the aban- 
don of a cross-country rider, who drew the cheers of the 
multitude. 

Loyalty to the past had at the time when Scott lived a 
meaning that it could not have had later. The love of the 
past was a superficial element of romanticism. There was 
a deeper side of the movement, by virtue of which men be- 
gan to see themselves and all mankind stripped of artificial 
trappings of place and rank, and reduced to elemental 
humanity, and to discover in men thus brought down to 
essentials a Avonderful equality. This was the idea which 
the French Revolution sought to make prevail in the world. 
It was radically opposed to the old feudal conception of 
man, around which clung so much that was striking in the 
past. Only a few of the most ardent romanticists in Eng- 
land, such as Wordsworth and Coleridge, dared to go with 



xviii INTRODUCTION' 

the Revolution even a little way, and these soon fell back, 
horrified at its excesses. Scott, from conviction and senti- 
ment, opposed it heartily, and wrought against it upon the 
reason and the imagination of his contemporaries. Indeed, 
his resolute championship of the ideals of the past against 
the assaults of a destroying present gave Toryism its most 
winning appeal, the force of which was felt unconsciously 
more and more as the nation threw its strength more com- 
pletely against the principles of the Revolution. Thus the 
work of Scott has a double aspect. The generations which 
first read his poems and novels read them as exemplifying, 
on the one hand, literary emancipation, freedom of hand- 
ling new material of wonderful value to the imagination, 
and, on the other hand, though less consciously, political 
reaction, devotion to ideals and faiths which the present 
was beginning to abandon. In any reading of Scott we 
have to bear in mind these facts, or else we shall have dif- 
ficulty in appreciating his position as the most popular 
author of his time. 



II. ^MARMION.'^ 

Scott began to write ''^Marmion" in November, 1806, 
nearly two years after the publication of '^ The Lay of the 
Last Minstrel.'^ Before the poem was fairly under way 
Constable, the publisher, offered one thousand guineas for 
it, and Scott accepted the proposal at once. He needed a 
sum of money immediately to assist his brother, Thomas 
Scott, and with the success of ^^ The Lay" behind him he 
fell back on his pen as on a tried resource. 

At this time Scott was living at Ashestiel, which he had 
hired in 1804. The house was a small one on the southern 
bank of the Tweed, a few miles from Selkirk. 

"It was approached," says Loekhart, "through an old- 
fashioned garden, with holly hedges, and broad, green, terrace 
Avalks. On one side, close under the windows, is a deep ravine, 
clothed with venerable trees, down which a mountain rivulet 



IXTRODUCTIOI^ xix 

is heard, more than seen, in its progress to tlie Tweed, The 
river itself is separated from the high bank on wliich the 
house stands only by a narrow meadow of the richest verd- 
ure. Opposite, and all around, are the green hills. The 
valley there is narrow, and the aspect in every direction is 
that of perfect pastoral repose. The heights immediately 
behind are those which divide the Tweed from the Yarrow, and 
the latter celebrated stream lies within an easy ride, in the 
course of which the traveller passes through a variety of the 
finest mountain scenery in the south of Scotland. " 

At Asliestiel Scott combined the life of the man of letters 
with the life of the man of action in the way that was 
afterwards characteristic of him. He had formerly been 
used to taking time for study or writing in the night, but 
owing to the opinion of his physician that this habit aggra- 
vated his headaches, he changed his plans entirely. At 
Ashestiel he rose at five in the morning, lighted his fire, 
shaved, and dressed. At six he was at his desk with his 
papers before him, all arranged most carefully, his books of 
reference piled about on the floor, and one of his favorite 
dogs lying just beyond them. By nine or ten Scott had 
'' broken the neck " of the day^s work. After breakfast he 
gave two hours more to his task and then he felt free for 
the day. By one o'clock at the latest he was on horseback 
or afoot, ready for action. His friend Mr. Skene, who was 
a frequent visitor at Ashestiel and a companion of Scott in 
his rambles, thus comments in a letter to Lockhart on the 
extent of their wanderings : 

" Indeed," says Mr. Skene, "there are few scenes at all cele- 
brated, either in the history, tradition, or romance of the 
Border counties, w^hich Ave did not explore together in the 
course of our rambles. We traversed the entire vales of the 
Yarrow and Ettrick, with all their sweet tributary glens. . . . 

" I need not tell you that St. Mary's Loch and the Loch of 
the Lowes were among the most favorite scenes of our excur- 
sions, as his fondness for them continued to his last days, and 
we have both visited them many times together in his company. 
I may say the same of theTeviot, and the Aill, Borth wick-water. 



3tX tNTRODUCTIOJSt 

and the lonely towers of Buecleuch and Harden, Minto, Rox- 
burgh, Gilnockie, etc. 

"Whatever the banks of the Tweed, from its source to its 
termination, presented of interest, we frequently visited ; and I 
do verily believe there is not a single ford in the whole course 
of that river wliich we have not traversed together." 



*' Marmion " bears numerous marks of its birthplace and 
of the life its author led there. Scott speaks of the poem 
in his introduction as being ^' labored in passages with a 
good deal of care by one by whom much care was seldom 
bestowed/^ At the same time there is much testimony, 
both internal and external, to the freedom, the informality, 
the joy of composition with which the poem was written. 
Much of it was composed on horseback. Lockhart records 
Scott's saying in his old age, while riding from Ashestiel to 
Newark, '^ Oh, man, I had many a grand gallop among 
these braes when I was thinking of 'Marmion.^" Mr. 
Skene remembered that many of the more energetic de- 
scriptions, and particularly that of the battle of Flodden, 
were worked out while he was in quarters with a regiment 
of volunteer cavalry in the autumn of 1807. '^In the 
intervals of drilling, '^ he says, " Scott used to delight in 
walking his powerful black steed up and down by himself 
upon the Portobello sands, within the beating of the 
surge ; and now and then you would see him plunge in his 
spurs and go off as if at the charge with the spray dashing 
about him." 

'^ Marmion " reflects all of the stir and animation which 
accompanied its composition. It suffered somewhat, how- 
ever, from inevitable interruptions. During the compo- 
sition of the poem Scott took a journey to London to collect 
materials for his life of Dryden, and a large part of the 
first two cantos was sent from London to Ballantyne's 
press. He continued the poem with many interruptions 
after his return to Scotland. At last, in February, 1808, 
it was published, with six epistles introductory to the sev- 
eral cantos, epistles which Scott had once planned, accord- 



INTRODUCTION XXI 

ing to an advertisement of 1807, to publish separately as 
" Six Epistles from Ettrick Forest/' 

The poem was immediately successful. Severely han- 
dled by Jeffrey in the Edinburgh, and criticised unfavorably 
by Southey and many of Scott's other friends, it neverthe- 
less caught the public. In less than a month the first 
edition of 2,000 copies was sold at a guinea and a half. A 
second edition of 3,000 was sold in the same year. The 
next year two editions of 3,000 each were sold. In 1810, 
5,000 more copies were sold. In 1811 two editions, aggre- 
gating 9,000 copies, were issued, which supplied the public 
until 1815. Editions continued to follow, until when 
Lockhart wrote in 1836 he stated the sales at 50,000 copies. 
Lockhart has preserved these figures carefully. " I antici- 
pate no day," he writes, " when the student of English 
civilization will pass without curiosity the contemporary 
reception of the ' Tale of Flodden Field.' " 

The immediate popularity of the poem is not a fact to 
be lightly passed over in its study. The poem must be 
read with constant reference to its application to the 
national feeling to which it was submitted. Fifteen years 
before the appearance of " Marmion " the irritation be- 
tween England and France consequent upon the excesses 
of the French Kevolution and the execution of Louis XVI. 
had culminated in war. Since then the English had seen 
the activity of their greatest minister, William Pitt, ex- 
pended in bringing about successive coalitions of European 
powers against France, each one of which was thrown 
down by the energy of the republic or by the skill of the 
empire under Napoleon. Their land forces had been de- 
feated in Europe, but wonderfully successful in India. 
The fleet had won the great battles of June 1, 1794, of 
Camperdown, of the Nile, of Copenhagen. The nation 
had passed as one man through the fever of Napoleon's 
threatened invasion and the relief of Nelson's victory at 
Trafalgar. Nelson had been shot on tlie deck of his flag- 
ship ; Pitt had died almost at his desk — both sacrificed to 
the same end, the overthrow of Napoleon. In the very 



Xxii INTRODUCTION 

year in which " Marmion " appeared, in 1808, England 
began that decisive interference with the plans of Napoleon 
from which she was not to cease until after Waterloo. 

To a nation engrossed in a national struggle, a poem 
dealing so fluently and confidently with action and warfare 
came with peculiar acceptation. Lockhart relates the story 
of Sir Adam Fergusson, a year or two later, reading from 
'' The Lady of the Lake " to his men as they lay prostrate 
within the lines of Torres Vedras under fire from the French 
artillery. He chose the description of the battle in Canto 
VI., ** and the listening soldiers only interrupted him by a 
joyous huzza when the French shot struck the bank close 
above them.^^ Perhaps " Marmion " was never subjected to 
this supreme test, but if it had been, it would have endured 
it even more successfully. ^' The battle of Flodden in 
' Marmion,^ ^' says Mr. Hutton, '* constitutes perhaps the 
most perfect description of war by one who was almost botli 
poet and warrior, which the English language contains." 
The poem revealed the intense patriotism of the author. 
Says Lockhart : ^' Scott had sternly and indignantly re- 
buked and denounced the then too prevalent spirit of anti- 
national despondence ; he had put the trumpet to his lips 
and done his part, at least, to sustain the hope and resolu- 
tion of his countrymen. He must ever be considered as the 
' mighty minstrel of the Anglican war ; ' and it was ^ Mar- 
mion' that first announced him in that character. ''' 

But " Marmion " did not owe all, or even the greater 
part of its popularity to the circumstance of England^s be- 
ing at war with France. We have already seen that Scott 
was an expression of the dominant literary mood of his 
day — romanticism. One element of the movement that 
caught the popular fancy was its sympathy with the past, 
in which Scott was more than fitted to share. He had for 
years been engaged in antiquarian researches, inspired by 
his interest in the past and his love for the marvellous in 
any form. He liad found an unexpected market for his ac- 
cumulated wares of story and legend. In " The Minstrelsy 
of the Scottish Border" he had put forth some of this 



INTBODUCTION Xxiii 

material as a mere compilation. Its value was then made 
apparent. In ''The Lay of the Last Minstrel'" he had 
dealt freely with a mass of legends about real persons. The 
success was quadrupled. In " Marmion " he advanced 
still further and invented a whole story in the manner of 
the old minstrelsy, mooring it, as it were, to a few histor- 
ical piers. Here at last he found the final measure of his 
success. 

The poem '' Marmion " rests against a background of 
imaginative material, to which the author makes liberal 
reference in the text of the poem, and explains still more 
generously in the notes. Such stories as those of Whitby 
and Saint Cuthbert (II., xiii., xiv.), " The Host's Tale,'' in 
Canto III., the story of James's supernatural warning (V., 
xxvi.), and that of the ''Spirit's blasted tree" (VI., In- 
troduction, 1. 159) show how eager Scott was to connect 
his tale with the mass of legend Avith which he was famil- 
iar, and of which he had learned the popular value. Such 
an episode as the immuring of the nun Constance, in Can- 
to II. , though apart from the main action of the poem, was 
a very possible circumstance, possessing the interest which 
attaches to a real occurrence, and also the attraction of the 
mysterious and the terrible. It bore, therefore, directly on 
the popular inclination for such things, and probably could 
not have been read without emotion by Scott's contempo- 
raries, whose minds were attuned to horror. 

Of the characters in " Marmion," James IV. and Douglas 
are historical ; Lindsay, in his office of Lion King-at- 
arms, is transplanted from the succeeding generation. 
Lady Heron has a historical parallel in Lady Ford, whom 
James met at Ford Castle, not at Edinburgh. The rest of 
the characters, including Marmion, are all imaginary. In 
dealing with his historical persons, Scott has shown his 
usual skill in strengthening by imaginary incidents the 
outlines of character which history preserves. For in- 
stance, in Canto V., the account of James IV., with his rich 
dress, his noble bearing, his shifting mood, his devoted- 
ness, his gallantry, his fantastic chivalry, his gusts of an- 



XXIV INTRODUCTION 

ger and repentance, is wonderfully truthful and suggestive. 
As penance for his part in the insurrection which cost his 
father both life and crown, James IV. was accustomed to 
spend June, the month of his father's death, in retirement 
and religious exercises, and to wear at all times an iron 
belt. And yet with all this seriousness it is quite possible 
that James began the war in which he fell, because the 
French queen made him her champion ; and it is certain 
that his dalliance with Lady Ford cost him the military 
advantage which he had gained at the outset. Douglas, 
too, Scott has portrayed firmly and sympathetically. The 
sixth Lord Angus was one of the most turbulent nobles 
under James III. Under James IV. he headed the party 
that was for peace with England, and carried his opposi- 
tion to the king's rash expedition to the point of personal 
entreaty. He sent his sons to follow James, and turned 
back himself to die of regret in a monastery. His rugged 
personality may fittingly be compared with the Douglas in 
" The Lady of the Lake." 

Of the female characters Constance has the advantage of 
playing the chief role in the most dramatic scene. Her 
figure and attitude are admirably defined ; her lines are 
full of intensity. Clare is passive, a lay figure for the most 
part, and fortunately so, for when she emerges into the ac- 
tion (as in VI., x.) it is only to utter the most conventional 
sentiments in stereotyped phrases. The Abbess, again, is 
a shadow. How immensely less successful Scott's method 
was than Chaucer's can be seen by a comparison of the 
Abbess of Whitby with the Prioress in the " Prologue " to 
the '^ Cauterbury Tales." With the subordinate men Scott 
does better. There is a very successful attempt to discrim- 
inate Marmion's squires. Fitz-Eustace is the gentle youth, 
who sings ^' Where shall the lover rest ? " Blount is 
rougher, as his name tells us — " a sworn horse-courser," 
" unnurtured Blount," his companion calls him. The 
Palmer gains an interest from the obscurity which sur- 
rounds him, and when to the attraction of a mysterious 
bearing is added, in Canto VI., the force of his tragic situ- 



INTRODUCTION XXV 

ation, he becomes a figure of the first importance, an impor- 
tance which lie owes to his circumstances, not to the 
strength of his character. It is true he is brave and he is 
merciful, but these attributes count for less than the facts 
that he has been wronged and that he is victorious. 

Marmion owes much of the fascination which attaches to 
his character to the fate which dogs him with equal step 
through the poem. From Norham, where the Palmer is 
added to his train ; to Gilford Moor, where he falls before 
his unknown foe ; to Edinburgh, Avhere his mission fails ; 
to Tantallon, where he learns of the resurrection of his old 
enemy, De Wilton ; to Flodden, where he dies after hear- 
ing of the fate of Constance ; even to Lichfield, where the 
base-born peasant occupies the Gothic tomb which bears 
Lord Marmion's image, his thwarting destiny follows him. 
For the rest, Marmion is a clear, almost a vivid con- 
ception of the mingled virtues and vices of decadent chiv- 
alry, faulty only in the nndignified forgery with which 
Scott, in the haste of his composition, weakened the plot, 
and which gave Byron a weapon of attack in '^ English 
Bards and Scotch Reviewers.''' (See foot-note on p. 10.) 

On the whole, Scott's characters in '^ Marmion " have 
not the high success of some of his prose portraits. Scott 
excelled in painting figures which he knew intimately from 
experience. This experience sometimes came from a won- 
derfully vivid perception of the historic past, sometimes 
from a scarcely less vivid acquaintance with the men of his 
own age, usually men of striking peculiarity or mannerism 
— men not unfit for heroes. Baron Bradwardine and Dandie 
Dinmont are efforts of genius. Lady Clare, Wilton, even 
Marmion, are external portraits, true in drawing but with- 
out overmuch of the look of life. 

The scene of 'Olarmion" is the Border country, with 
which Scott was familiar from his youth. Marmion and 
his train appear first at Norham, just south of the Tweed. 
They ride thence northwest to Edinburgh, then almost 
east to Tantallon, and then south to Flodden Field. The 
journey gives an admirable opportunity to introduce char- 



XXvi INTRODUCTION 

acteristic bits of scenery and of the life of the early six- 
teenth century. The most elaborate scene is the reception 
of Marniion at Norham. For the setting of the poem 
Scott had a thorough equipment of mediaeval properties, 
which, if not always used accurately, nevertheless are an 
effective accompaniment to the martial tale. He had 
further a minute knowledge of the country, and, for cer- 
tain aspects of nature, a feeling of remarkable keenness. 
It has been cited, indeed, as a defect in Scott's narrative 
that the descriptions impede the movement of the story. 
However true this may be of some of the perversities of 
Scott's prose, it is hardly true of his poetry, particularly 
of " Marmion." In this poem the descriptions are as full 
of spirit and action as the narrative itself ; they often play 
into the narrative and are a part of it. It may be ques- 
tioned, indeed, whether for most readers the poem is not 
essentially descriptive, having its sustaining interest in its 
pictures, while the plot is merely a transient and occasional 
cause for mild wonder. 

A much-debated literary question has been that concern- 
ing the six introductory epistles. Does the poem lose sub- 
stantially in unity by their interruptions ? Southey ex- 
pressed himself to Scott vigorously on this matter. " The 
introductory epistles I did not wish away because as poems 
they gave me great pleasure, but I wished them at the end 
of the volume or at the beginning, anywhere except where 
they were. My taste is peculiar in disliking all interrup- 
tions in narrative poetry. . . . The general opinion, 
however, is with me in this instance.^' Lockhart defends 
the introductions on personal grounds as preserving for pos- 
terity a glimpse of Scott's intimate circle of friends. Mr. 
Hutton goes farther and maintains their artistic value. 

"To my mind," he says, "the ease and frankness of these 
confessions of the author's recollections give a picture of his 
life and character while writing ' Marmion,' which adds greatly 
to its attraction as a poem. You have a picture at once not 
only of the scenery, but of the mind in which that scenery is 
mirrored, and are brought back frankly, at fit intervals, 



INTRODUCTION XXvU 

from the one to the other, in the mode best adapted to help 
you to appreciate the relation of the poet to the poem. . 
AVhat can be more truly a part of 'Marmion' as a poem, 
though not as a story, than that introduction to the first canto 
in which Scott expresses his passionate sympathy with the 
high national feeling of the moment, in his tribute to Pitt and 
Fox, and then reproaches himself for attempting so great a 
subject and returns to what he calls his ' rude legend, ' the very 
essence of which was, however, a passionate appeal to the 
spirit of national independence ? What can be more germane 
to the poem than the delineation of the strength the poet had 
derived from musing in the bare and rugged solitudes of St. 
Mary's Lake, in the introduction to the second canto ? Or 
than the striking autobiographical study of his own infancy 
which I have before extracted from the introduction to the 
third ? It seems to me that ' Marmion ' without these introduc- 
tions would be like the hills which border Yarrow, without the 
stream and the lake in which they are reflected." 



III. THE METRE. 

Scott made his choice of a suitable poetic form before 
writing " The Lay of the Last Minstrel/' and to this choice, 
with some modifications, he adhered in all his longer poems. 
His first impulse seems to have been to choose the metre of 
the popular ballads. This metre regularly consisted of a line 
of four feet, of two syllables each, with the accent on the 
second syllable, followed by a line of three similar feet. 
Thus— 

' ' O wha' will shoe my f u' fair foot ? 
And wha' will glove my hand ? 
And wha' will lace my middle jimp. 
With the new made London band ? " 

It was usually written in stanzas of four lines each. 

To this metre Scott found objections. He says in the 
preface to " The Lay of the Last Minstrel : " 

" The ballad measure itself, which was once listened to as 
to an enchanting melody, had become hackneyed and sick- 
ening from its being the accompaniment of every grinding 



xxviii INTRODUCTION 

hand-organ ; and besides, a long work in quatrains, Avhether 
those of the common ballad, or such as are termed elegiac, 
have an elfect upon the sense like that of the bed of Pro- 
crustes upon the human body ; for as it must be both awk- 
ward and difficult to carry on a long sentence from one stanza 
to another, it follows that the meaning of each period must be 
comprehended within four lines, and equally so that it must 
be extended so as to fill that space. . . . 

' ' In the dilemma occasioned by this objection, the idea oc- 
curred to the author of using the measured short line which 
forms the structure of so much minstrel poetry that it may be 
properly termed the Romantic stanza, by way of distinction, 
and which appears so natural to our language that the very 
best of our poets have not been able to protract it into the 
verse properly called Heroic, without the use of epithets which 
are, to say the least, unnecessary. But, on the other hand, the 
extreme facility of the short couplet, which seems congenial to 
our language, and was, doubtless for that reason, so popular 
with our old minstrels, is, for the same reason, apt to prove a 
snare to the composer who uses it, by encouraging him in a 
habit of slovenly composition. The necessity of occasional 
pauses often forces the young poet to pay more attention to 
sense, as the boy's kite rises highest when the train is loaded 
by a due counterpoise. The author was therefore intimidated 
by what Byron calls the ' fatal facility ' of the octo-sy liable 
verse, which was otherwise better adapted to liis purpose of 
imitating the more ancient poetry." 

Accordingly Scott chose to write for the most part in 
lines of four accents each, arranged in stanzas of varying 
length and form. The regular ballad metre used largely 
iambic feet, that is, feet of two syllables with the accent 
on the second syllable. The monotony which resulted 
from this Scott varied in ''The Lay/' by substituting 
anapa3stic feet, i.e., feet consisting of three syllables with 
the accent on the last syllable, as in the last line of the 
ballad stanza quoted above. Such a foot, pronounced in 
the time usually given to an iambus, makes the line more 
lively and tripping. He also varied the movement by em- 
ploying at irregular intervals lines of three feet instead of 
four. 



INTRODUCTION xxix 

In '' Marmion " and " The Lady of the Lake" Scott uses 
the same form. In the introductions to the cantos of the 
former he kept closely to the regular iambic line of four 
feet, the lines rhyming in couplets. In the body of the 
poem itself he allows himself much the same freedom, as in 
''The Lay."' In the first five stanzas of ''Marmion" the 
line of three feet is used nineteen times to vary the move- 
ment and give the stanzas some trace of structure. Again, 
Scott departs from the iambic foot, substituting now and 
then a trochee, especially at the begiuning of the line, as 
in (II., iv.) : 

"There with | Saint Cuth | berths Ab | bot old | ." 

The rhyme scheme also Scott varied constantly, some- 
times rhyming lines iii couplets, sometimes alternately, 
sometimes three together, sometimes four together. Again, 
the introduction of lyrical passages, such as " Young Loch- 
invar" and " Where shall the lover rest," gives the desired 
relief from the monotony of the eight-syllable line. In the 
first, the movement is anapaestic — 

' ' O young I Lochinvar | has come out | of the West | ; " 

in the second, dactyllic — 

"Where shall the | lover rest 
Whom the Fates | sever." 

These lyrics are thoroughly successful. In the first the 
anapaests give a dash and a vigor to the lines that admit no 
hesitation or pause ; in the second the dactyls give dignity 
and solemnity. 

On the whole, Scott's choice of his metre was justified. 
It is a form lending itself to narration and descrijition, and 
agreeable to the structure of the English language. The 
chief fault, that it is too easy, too "fatally easy," to write, 
in time diminished greatly Scott's success as a poet, but 
without the facility of metre which lent itself to his head- 
long speed of composition it is not certain that Scott could 



XXX INTRODUCTION 

have written sustained poems at all. His power lay not in 
richness of imagery, in musical tones, in compact subtlety 
of phrase ; but rather in swiftness, hurrying energy, and 
decision of movement. For these his vehicle was better 
adapted than any other form of English verse. 



SUGGESTIONS FOR TEACHERS AND 
STUDENTS 



First : Although " Marmion" is often used as a book for 
study, yet few books are read by the average pupil with 
more pleasure. It may safely be said that the pupil who 
w^aits upon the slow succession of class exercises to finish 
the book is the exception. Therefore it is better to have 
the poem read at first as a whole, outside the class. The 
pupil will need little help in appreciating the quarrel be- 
tween Marmion and Douglas, or the Battle of Flodden. 
His first impression is more than likely to leave him enthu- 
siastic, ready to believe that the poem has that in it which 
makes it worth some consideration in detail. 

In taking up the poem in the class, this point of view — 
that of the unprejudiced seeker for pleasure — should not 
be disregarded. It may be made to lend itself to closer ob- 
servation of details than is to be expected from pupils read- 
ing at home. The effectiveness of Scott^s special methods 
may be pointed out ; a few well - directed questions may 
be asked at times, to keep the progress of the plot clearly 
in sight ; now and then a comment on the verse form 
will seem to make the enjoyment of the student a little 
more conscious and tangible, and lead him to look for 
its recurrence. Of course the pupil will not find the same 
pleasure in all parts of the poem. The question arises, why 
not ? Is the movement of the story impeded ? If so, is 
there any reason for the delay ? Does the description fail 
to make any appeal, visual or other, to the pupil^s imag- 
ination ? Is it because the details are too numerous or 
confused, or because they have no sensuous force in them- 
selves ? Does the verse itself fail to ring, and merely rat- 



XXXii SUGGESTIONS FOR TEACHERS 

tie in rhyme ? Let the pupil compare the passage with 
others, and try to distinguish the exact cause of the differ- 
ence. Naturally the pupil will have some opinion of the 
poem as a whole, even if it be little more than an impres- 
sion of pleasure. He should be encouraged to sharpen this 
impression by comparing the poem with others. Is it as 
interesting a story as ^' The Lady of the Lake ? " How does 
Scott's treatment of nature differ from Wordsworth^s in 
^' Tintern Abbey ? " Is the verse of *' Marmion '' as power- 
ful an instrument as Tennyson^s ? Of course other poets 
and poems will serve as well as these in this attempt to get 
at a few literary standards. 

Second : However vivid the pupil's enjoyment of the 
poem may be, it will be reinforced by some reference to the 
author who wrote it, and to the people for whom it was 
written. Accordingly, after the poem has been read rapidly, 
it will be well to take up more or less thoroughly the mat- 
ter contained in the Introduction. It is the aim of the In- 
troduction to put before the reader very informally some 
account of Scott's personality, and to show how it was re- 
lated to the life of Great Britain in the early part of the 
century. The spiritual movement of romanticism had both 
political and literary manifestations ; with both of these 
Scott was connected, and both found expression in his 
work. How close this connection was appears from a 
glance at Scott's early life and environment ; how clear the 
expression, from reading the poems with the conditions of 
the time in mind. The first thing, then, to do, in reading 
Scott's poetry understandingly, is to get into the position, 
if we can, of the men to whom it was addressed, and to try 
to read it as they read it. To do this the reader must know 
something of the romantic movement of the latter part of 
the eighteenth century and of the political reaction from it 
in the early years of the nineteenth century. In other 
words, the best preparation for the reading of Scott's poetry 
is some acquaintance with the literary and political history 
of the time. This may be obtained from such works as 
Green's ''History of the English People," and Mr. Saints- 



SUGGESTIONS FOR TEACHERS xxxiii 

bury's '^ History of English Literature in the Nineteenth 
Century." Even Mr. Stopford Brooke's " Primer of English 
Literature " will give a valuable introduction to the poem. 
This reading should be supplemented by some of Words- 
worth's earlier poems, by a few of Byron's, and, if possible, 
by some of the ballads in Percy's " Reliques " and some- 
thing of '' Ossian." The two latter will give some idea of 
the literary taste of the public to which Scott appealed. 

Third : The pupil must see that by spending some time 
on the details of the poem he will quicken his appreciation 
of them, and extend his range of appreciation of others. 
First of all, the words of the poem must be understood 
thoroughly. The difficulties are, to be sure, few, but 
these must be mastered before the reader can work in the 
brightest possible light. Then the background of the 
poem, historical and legendary, must be known with some 
minuteness. What world is it that Scott is striving to 
make us know ? What was the civilization represented by 
pursuivants who call for largess, an ordeal by battle, a 
chapter of ecclesiastics who immure a nun alive, a palmer 
from the Holy Land, an innkeeper who sits ^'^ yarning" with 
his guests, a knight who escapes from a castle in spite of 
drawbridge and portcullis, a battle fought with bows and 
spears ? Was this civilization well established in its de- 
tails, or was it in transition, giving way to great changes ? 
Is Scott accurate in his description of the age ? Does he 
give it life and reality ? Compare ^^Marmion" with ^' The 
Lay of the Last Minstrel." Again, the political history 
of the epoch must be glanced at ; the complications of 
England with continental powers ; the connection of Scot- 
land with both parties in the European struggle, and the 
forces which induced James IV. to make the expedition to 
Flodden ; the reasons for his failure. An outline of this 
maybe found in Green's ^*^ History of the English People," 
and a fuller treatment in Burton's " History of Scotland." 
Finally, some knowledge of the country in which the scene 
is laid is necessary, enough at any rate to give a concep- 
tion of the difficulty and danger of Marmion's visit. Of 



XXxiv SUGGESTIONS FOR TEACHERS 

course, no one will need to be reminded that the poem is 
not to be studied as geography or as history, nor yet as 
archasology or grammar. Scientific knowledge is to be 
used only so far as it contributes to an understanding and 
an appreciation of the poem. 

It is thus evident that there are three sets of interests in 
'^^Marmion" — the interest which it has for the intelligent 
reader of to-day, the interest of the period for which it was 
written, and the interest of the time which it portrays. 
The first is a matter of enjoyment and criticism ; the 
second of literary history ; the third of history. They 
are given above in Avhat seems to me the order of their 
relative importance. Inasmuch as the poem is one of the 
books prescribed in the college entrance list for shuly, the 
teacher will naturally feel that the last two are of most 
immediate importance, and that the details which occur 
under the third head are most dangerous as boy-traps on 
the examination paper. Nevertheless, it is well to bear in 
mind that if information about the time of Henry VIII., 
or about literary conditions in England during the Napo- 
leonic wars had been desired, better means of insisting on 
it would have been devised. This information, so far as 
the study of ''Marmion^^ is concerned, can be of value 
only so far as it enables a pupil to read with more under- 
standing, with more sympathy, with more appreciation, 
and hence with more enjoyment. 



CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE 



xxxv 



o. 









S-c V 

II: 






1^ 






iX^h-;; 



^ j23Si^r< 



c3 o 



1i« 






><2 



OiCr., 



' o o o 









la 



72-^ 



013 









. PI 



m- 



;^ o & 

) ^ > cc 

) = « O 



ig^ci. 



c, c ^ 









si 

QO 






(1) 



o § o 



-m 



1'^ 



^'•^i^ 



s^ 






> ti 






5^ t^"^ GO 00 00 



gt^g^lS' 






00 00 00 



O o ^^ 

<U^ M ?' ' 

fi 72 g O 

'^ fl . o 

. -kJ OS- c 

'75 u >>-^ «' --3 

.ii 03 •- o = 5} 
fm O P ?2 O'.-S 






73 32 



XXXVl 



GHUONOLOQIGAL TABLE 



00 
o o 



'^ o 

S O 

c3 O. 

^ d 3 

CO 



>^ o 



2 ^>; 



.i '^ 



a 



2^0 g 



c -:- M tn iH o ^ 



) 00 CO 



•:2H 



O S 



^1 






U 03 

2 o 



000 









iC' 



• o 
.fia.2 

00 



X) 



r- o3 



(UTS 
■+a O 'O 

ra r— 1 OJ 

efi'— 'o 
P-l 
05 M g 



^ ci_i •'^ s-< 'I' 

H^ 0.2 o:S 



It-fl 



1«^^s| 



00 00 



Cl o 

O rn CD ■ 



02 



4J ^ 
,2 rt 






CO fl 

<" m g 






-■ ^ r_i a: 






52 '^J3m 



— ( 40 



> I— J s- S ** 



T3 o-^ 



:2 S 






I o 



o g 

00 



T3 u 



oq; 



•73 

Cl o 



CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE 



XXXVll 



^ 
o 

OH? 



5 '-' 
CO 



a, 
o o 

CO 



S o 

CO 



■it 



2s 



§1. 












2 ^-•- 

CO GO 



oca. 



2;d 



M 



S^H 



! '^ 

i MP 



O o I" 

n ^ <u 

O CO Oi 

u:J fl o 

c3 O O 

cc 

^ a -> 



■2.2 .2 >>> 



1 «f-l 

r3 O 

^■« 



1-^ to 






CO 



S. en fcH hM 

=-i B. b:: ^'^ - ^ 

1-1 as r-i K* O 7? "s 

CO CO 






r3 * -— ,=■ 



O) 



<D 



>?y. H-'j^r;^ 



cc'— I V, 
*^ cr -^ — 



,3" 



t; -*^ 



a 



^ Ci^i ,—,1—1 






Scc'^ffii^l 

. tt -S ^ ;5 :t' s 
^"43 (ua o^^ 

Is- 1^ 

00 



^ .si 

'^— U GO 



S fl C O 

rv, « S jj c3 -to 
^P4C?^EH g 

r^ X! rD 3; "H M 
CO 00 00 



00 



XXXVlll 



OHRONOLOOIGAL TABLE 



^ 









cf^ 





« 




CO O 




J3 

-1^ 








'S 




s.- 


» 


■*s 




TJ 00 


« 


c8 




fl a 


p 


J 




c8 a> 


H 






o 


a 






^Oh 


u 


(4 




<u ^ 


Hi 


1 


,J2 

c 


^ l=i ™? 

c o 




W 


g 


l^^cq 




00 







S.2 






••5 =^ 

CO UHH 



•"3 be 13 <^ ^, ^.^ rj 

CO 00 












be w 



O c3 O 

2 to cc O-rf 

CC OJ . i4-< •— ' 
rt^^^ S CO 

43 C5 o«H." >H 



02 pq 



Xi -4JrK i-i 



^ ^ O (U 



.3 oj ■— ' 

He? DD 



•• o fl a 



O^ a^ oj'S 



cc CC m 1^ O •— '^ti 
00 00 






«hJ= bO 

oO a 

m' — '^ 
-^ ft 



CO CO cc < 
00 





1 CM 




-a o 




Wj 




«j^ 


» 


J3 e3 






>i 






© 43 


]j 


= .1 


g 


■3§to 


cc 


^ >>^ 




fO fl CI 




00 



o <» 
•-5 <fl 



MARMION: 

A TALE OF FLODDEN FIELD. 

IN SIX CANTOS. 



Alas ! that Scottish maid should sing 
The combat Avhere her lover fell ! 

That Scottish Bard should wake the string, 
The triumph of our foes to tell ! 

Leyuen. 



THE RIGHT HONOURABLE 

HENRY, LORD MONTAGUE 

&c. &c. &c. 

THIS ROMANCE IS INSCRIBED 
BY 

THE AUTHOR 



ADVERTISEMENT 

It is hardly to be expected, that an Author, whom the 
Public have honoured with some degree of applause, should 
not be again a trespasser on their kindness. Yet the 
Author of '^Marmion" must be supposed to feel some 
anxiety concerning its success, since he is sensible that he 
hazards, by this second intrusion, any reputation which his 
first Poem may have procured him. The present story 
turns upon the private adventures of a fictitious character ; 
but is called a Tale of Flodden Field, because the heroes 
fate is connected with that memorable defeat, and the 
causes which led to it. The design of the Author was, if 
possible, to apprize his readers, at the outset, of the date 
of his Story, and to prepare them for the manners of the 
Age in which it is laid. Any Historical Narrative, far 
more an attempt at Epic composition, exceeds his plan of 
a Eomantic Tale ; yet he may be permitted to hope, from 
the popularity of " The Lay of the Last Minstrel,'^ that an 
attempt to paint the manners of the feudal times, upon a 
broader scale, and in the course of a more interesting story, 
will not be unacceptable to the Public. 

The Poem opens about the commencement of August, and 
concludes with the defeat of Flodden, 9th September, 1513. 

Ashestiel^ 1808. 



INTRODUCTION TO THE EDITION OF 1830 



What I have to say respecting this Poem may be briefly 
told. In the Introduction to '' The Lay of the Last Min- 
strel/''' I have mentioned the circumstances, so far as my 
literary life is concerned, which induced me to resign the 
active pursuit of an honourable profession, for the more 
precarious resources of literature. My appointment to the 
Sheriffdom of Selkirk called for a change of residence. 
I left, therefore, the pleasant cottage I had upon the side 
of the Esk, for the "pleasanter banks of the Tweed," in 
order to comply with the law, which requires that the 
Sheriff shall be resident, at least during a certain number 
of months, within his jurisdiction. We found a delightful 
retirement, by my becoming the tenant of my intimate 
friend and cousin-german. Colonel Kussel, in his mansion 
of Ashestiel, which was unoccupied, during his absence on 
military service in India. The house was adequate to 
our accommodation, and the exercise of a limited hos- 
pitality. The situation is uncommonly beautiful, by the 
side of a fine river, whose streams are there very favourable 
for angling, surrounded by the remains of natural woods, 
and by hills abounding in game. In point of society, ac- 
cording to the heartfelt phrase of Scripture, we dwelt 
'' amongst our own people ; '' and as the distance from the 
metropolis was only thirty miles, we were not out of reach 
of our Edinburgh friends, in which city we spent the terms 
of the summer and winter Sessions of the Court, that is, 
five or six months in the year. 

An important circumstance had, about the same time, 
taken place in my life. Hopes had been held out to me 
from an influential quarter, of a nature to relieve me from 



6 SCOTT'S INTRODUCTION 

the anxiety which I must have otherwise felt, as one upon 
the precarious tenure of whose own life rested the princi- 
pal prospects of his family, and especially as one who had 
necessarily some dependence upon the favour of the pub- 
lic, which is proverbially capricious ; though it is but jus- 
tice to add, that, in my own case, I have not found it so. 
Mr. Pitt had expressed a wish to my personal friend, the 
Right Honourable William Dundas, now Lord Clerk Regis- 
ter of Scotland, that some fitting opportunity should be 
taken to be of service to me ; and as my views and wishes 
pointed to a future rather than an immediate provision, an 
opportunity of accomplishing this was soon found. One of 
the Principal Clerks of Session, as they are called (official 
persons who occupy an important and responsible situation, 
and enjoy a considerable income,) who had served upwards 
of thirty years, felt himself, from age, and the infirmity of 
deafness with which it was accompanied, desirous of retir- 
ing from his official situation. As the law then stood, such 
official persons were entitled to bargain with their succes- 
sors, either for a sum of money, which was usually a con- 
siderable one, or for an interest in the emoluments of the 
office during their life. My predecessor, whose services 
had been unusually meritorious, stipulated for the emolu- 
ments of his office during his life, while I should enjoy the 
survivorship, on the condition that I discharged the duties 
of the office in the mean time. Mr. Pitt, however, having 
died in the interval, his administration was dissolved, and 
was succeeded by that known by the name of the Fox and 
Grenville Ministry. My affair was so far completed, that 
my commission hiy in the office subscribed by his Majesty ; 
but, from hurry or mistake, the interest of my predecessor 
was not expressed in it, as had been usual in such cases. 
Although, therefore, it only required payment of the fees, 
I could not in honour take out the commission in the pres- 
ent state, since, in the event of my dying before him, the 
gentleman whom I succeeded must have lost the vested in- 
terest which he had stipulated to retain. I had the hon- 
our of an interview with Earl Spencer on the subject, and 



SCOTT'S INTRODUCTION 7 

he, in tlie most handsome manner, gave directions that the 
commission should issue as originally intended ; adding, 
that the matter having received the royal assent, he regard- 
ed only as a claim of justice what he would have willingly 
done as an act of favour. I never saw Mr. Fox on this, or 
on any other occasion, and never made any application to 
him, conceiving that in doing so I might have been sup- 
posed to express political opinions contrary to those which 
I had always professed. In his private capacity, there is 
no man to whom I would have been more proud to owe an 
obligation, had I been so distinguished. 

By this arrangement I obtained the survivorship of an 
office, the emoluments of which were fully adequate to my 
wishes ; and as the law respecting the mode of providing 
for superannuated officers was, about five or six years after, 
altered from that which admitted the arrangement of as- 
sistant and successor, my colleague very handsomely took 
the opportunity of the alteration, to accept of the retiring 
annuity provided in such cases, and admitted me to the 
full benefit of the office. 

But although the certainty of succeeding to a considerable 
inconae, at the time I obtained it, seemed to assure me of a 
quiet harbour in my old age, I did not escape my share of 
inconvenience from the contrary tides and currents by 
which we are so often encountered in our journey through 
life. Indeed, the publication of my next poetical attempt 
Was prematurely accelerated, from one of those unpleasant 
accidents which can neither be foreseen nor avoided. 

I had formed the prudent resolution to endeavour to be- 
stow a little more labour than I had yet done on my produc- 
tions, and to be in no hurry again to announce myself as a 
candidate for literary fame. Accordingly, particular pas- 
sages of a poem, which was finally called ^' Marmion,^^ were 
laboured with a good deal of care, by one by whom much 
care was seldom bestowed. Whether the work was worth 
the labour or not, I am no competent judge ; but I may be 
permitted to say, that the period of its composition was a 
very happy one, in my life ; so much so, that I remember 



8 SCOTT'S INTRODUCTION 

with pleasure, at this moment, some of the spots in which 
particular passages were composed. It is probably owing 
to this, that the Introductions to the several Cantos as- 
sumed the form of familiar epistles to my intimate friends, 
in which I alluded, perhaps more than was necessary or 
graceful, to my domestic occupations and amusements — a 
loquacity which may be excused by those who remember, 
that I was still young, light-headed, and happy, and that 
''out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh/' 
The misfortunes of a near relation and friend, which 
happened at this time, led me to alter my prudent deter- 
mination, which had been, to use great precaution in send- 
ing this poem into the world ; and made it convenient at 
least, if not absolutely necessary, to hasten its publication. 
The publishers of ''The Lay of the Last Minstrel,'' em- 
boldened by the success of that poem, willingly offered a 
thousand pounds for " Marmion." The transaction being 
no secret, afforded Lord Byron, who was then at general war 
with all who blacked paper, an apology for including me 
in his satire, entitled " English Bards and Scotch Re vie w- 
ers.'" * I never could conceive how an arrangement between 
an author and his publishers, if satisfactory to the persons 

* [The passage referred to is as follows : 

'' Next view in state, proud prancing on his roan, 
The golden-crested haughty Marmion, 
Now forging scrolls, now foremost in the fight, 
Not quite a felon, yet but half a knight. 
The gibbet or the field prepared to grace ; 
A mighty mixture of the great and base. 
And think'st thou, Scott ! by vain conceit perchance, 
On public taste to foist thy stale romance, 
Though Murray with his Miller may combine 
To yield thy muse just half a crown per line ? 
No ! when the sons of song descend to trade, 
Their bays are sear, their former laurels fade. 
Let such forego the poet's sacred name, 
Who rack their brains for lucre, not for fame ; 
Still for stern Mammon may they toil in vain ! 
And sadly gaze on gold they cannot gain ! 
Such be their meed, such still the just reward 
Of prostituted muse and hireling bard ! 
For this we spurn Apollo's venal son, 
And bid a long ' Good-night to Marmion.' "] 



SCOTT'S INTRODUCTION 9 

concerned, could afford matter of censure to any third 
party. I had taken no unusual or ungenerous means of 
enhancing the value of my merchandise — I had never 
higgled a moment about the bargain, but accepted at once 
what I considered the handsome offer of my publishers. 
These gentlemen, at least, were not of opinion that 
they had been taken advantage of in the transaction, which 
indeed was one of their own framing ; on the contrary, the 
sale of the Poem was so far beyond their expectation, as to 
induce them to supply the author^s cellars with what is 
always an acceptable present to a young Scottish house- 
keeper, namely, a hogshead of excellent claret. 

The Poem was finished in too much haste, to allow me 
an opportunity of softening down, if not removing, some 
of its most prominent defects. The nature of Marmion's 
guilt, although similar instances were found, and might be 
quoted, as existing in feudal times, was nevertheless not 
sufficiently peculiar to be indicative of the character of the 
period, forgery being the crime of a commercial, rather 
than a proud and warlike age. This gross defect ought to 
have been remedied or palliated. Yet I suffered the tree to 
lie as it had fallen. I remember my friend. Dr. Leyden, 
then in the East, wrote me a furious remonstrance on the 
subject. I have, nevertheless, always been of opinion, that 
corrections, however in themselves judicious, have a bad 
effect — after publication. An author is never so decidedly 
condemned as on his own confession, and may long find 
apologists and partisans until he gives up his own cause. I 
was not, therefore, inclined to afford matter for censure 
out of my own admissions ; and, by good fortune, the 
novelty of the subject, and, if I may say so, some force and 
vivacity of description, were allowed to atone for many im- 
perfections. Thus the second experiment on the public 
patience, generally the most perilous, — for the public are 
then most apt to judge with rigour, what in the first in- 
stance they had received, perhaps, with imprudent gener- 
osity, — was in my case decidedly successful. I had the 
good fortune to pass this ordeal favourably, and the return 



10 SCOTT'S INTRODUCTION 

of sales before me makes the copies amount to thirty-six 
thousand printed between 1808 and 1825, besides a consid- 
erable sale since that period. I shall here pause upon the 
subject of " Marmion," and, in a few prefatory words to 
^' The Lady of the Lake/^ the last poem of mine which ob- 
tained eminent success, I will continue the task which I 
have imposed on myself respecting the origin of my pro- 
ductions. 

Abbotsford, Aprils 1830. 



M ARMION 

INTKODUCTION TO CANTO FIEST. 



TO WILLIAM STEWART ROSE, ESQ. 

Ashestiel, Ettrick Forest. 

November's sky is chill and drear, 

November's leaf is red and sear : 

Late, gazing down the steepy linn. 

That hems onr little garden in. 

Low in its dark and narrow glen. 

You scarce the rivulet might ken. 

So thick the tangled greenwood grew. 

So feeble trilFd the streamlet through : 

Now, murmuring hoarse, and frequent seen 

Through bush and brier, no longer green, 10 

An angry brook, it sweeps the glade. 

Brawls over rock and wild cascade. 

And, foaming brown with double speed. 

Hurries its waters to the Tweed. 

No longer Autumn's glowing red 
Upon our Forest hills is shed ; 
No more, beneath the evening beam. 
Fair Tweed reflects their purple gleam ; 
Away hath pass'd the heather-bell 
That bloom'd so rich on Needpath-fell ; 20 

Sallow his brow, and russet bare 



12 MARMION 

Are now the sister-heights of Yair. 
The sheep, before the pinching heaven. 
To sheltered dale and down are driven. 
Where yet some faded herbage pines. 
And yet a watery sunbeam shines : 
In meek despondency they eye 
The withered sward and wintry sky. 
And far beneath their summer hill. 
Stray sadly by Glenkinnon's rill : 30 

The shepherd shifts his mantle's fold. 
And wraps him closer from the cold ; 
His dogs no merry circles wheel. 
But, shivering, follow at his heel ; 
A cowering glance they often cast. 
As deeper moans the gathering blast. 

My imps, though hardy, bold, and wild. 

As best befits the mountain child. 

Feel the sad influence of the hour. 

And wail the daisy's vanished flower ; 40 

Their summer gambols tell, and mourn. 

And anxious ask, — " Will spring return. 

And birds and lambs again be gay, 

And blossoms clothe the hawthorn spray ? " 

Yes, prattlers, yes. The daisy's flower 
Again shall paint your summer bower ; 
Again the hawthorn shall supply 
The garlands you delight to tie ; 
The lambs upon the lea shall bound, 
The wild birds carol to the round, 50 

And while you frolic light as they. 
Too short shall seem the summer day. 

To mute and to material things 
New life revolving summer brings ; 
The genial call dead Nature hears. 
And in her glory reappears. 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIRST 13 

But oh ! my conntry^s wintry state 

What second spring shall renovate ? 

What powerful call shall bid arise 

The buried warlike and the wise ; 60 

The mind that thought for Britain's weal. 

The hand that grasp'd the victor steel ? 

The vernal sun new life bestows 

Even on the meanest flower that blows ; 

But vainly, vainly may he shine. 

Where Glory weeps o'er Nelson's shrine ; 

And vainly pierce the solemn gloom. 

That shrouds, Pitt, thy hallow'd tomb ! 

Deep graved in every British heart, 
never let those names depart ! 70 

Say to your sons, — Lo, here his grave. 
Who victor died on Gadite wave ; 
To him, as to the burning levin. 
Short, bright, resistless course was given ; 
Where'er his country's foes were found. 
Was heard the fated thunder's sound. 
Till burst the bolt on yonder shore, 
Roll'd, blaz'd, destroy 'd, — and was no more. 

Nor mourn ye less his perish'd worth 
Who bade the conqueror go forth, 80 

And launch'd that thunderbolt of war 
On Egypt, Hafnia, Trafalgar ; 
Who, born to guide such high emprize. 
For Britain's weal was early wise ; 
Alas ! to whom the Almighty gave. 
For Britain's sins, an early grave ! 
His worth, who, in his mightiest hour, 
A bauble held the pride of power, 
Spurn'd at the sordid lust of pelf, 
And served his Albion for herself ; 90 

Who, when the frantic crowd amain 
Strain'd at subjection's bursting rein. 



14 MARMION 

O^er their wild mood full conquest gained. 
The pride, he would not crush, restraint. 

Showed their fierce zeal a worthier cause, j 

And brought the freeman's arm to aid the freeman's j 

laws. 

Had'st thou but lived, though stripp'd of power, 
A watchman on the lonely tower, j 

Thy thrilling trump had roused the land. 
When fraud or danger were at hand ; 100 

By thee, as by the beacon-light. 

Our pilots had kept course aright ; ] 

As some proud column, though alone. 

Thy strength had propp'd the tottering throne : \ 

Now is the stately column broke. 

The beacon-light is quench'd in smoke, .; 

The trumpet's silver sound is still. 
The warder silent on the hill ! 

Oh, think, how to his latest day, ! 

When Death, just hovering, claim'd his prey, 110 

With Palinure's unalter'd mood, i 

Firm at his dangerous post he stood ; 

Each call for needful rest repell'd. 

With dying hand the rudder held. 

Till, in his fall, with fateful sway. 

The steerage of the realm gave way ! 

Then, while on Britain's thousand plains. 

One unpolluted church remains, ' 

Whose peaceful bells ne'er sent around j 

The bloody tocsin's maddening sound, 120 \ 

But still, upon the hallow'd day. 

Convoke the swains to praise and pray ; 

While faith and civil peace are dear, 

Grace this cold marble with a tear, — 

He who preserved them, Pitt, lies here ! 

Nor yet suppress the generous sigh. 
Because his rival slumbers nigh ; ■ 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIRST 15 

Nor be thy requiescat dumb^ 

Lest it be said o^er Fox's tomb. 

For talents mourn, untimely lost, 130 

When best employed, and wanted most ; 

Mourn genius high, and lore profound. 

And wit that loved to play, not wound ; 

And all the reasoning powers divine. 

To penetrate, resolve, combine ; 

And feelings keen, and fancy's glow, — 

They sleep with him who sleeps below : 

And, if thou mourn'st they could not save 

From error him who owns this grave. 

Be every harsher thought suppressed, 140 

And sacred be the last long rest. 

Here, where the end of earthly things 

Lays heroes, patriots, bards, and kings ; 

Where stiff the hand, and still the tongue. 

Of those who fought, and spoke, and sung ; 

Here, where the fretted aisles prolong 

The distant notes of holy song. 

As if some angel spoke again, 

" All peace on earth, good-will to men -," 

If ever from an English heart, 150 

0, here let prejudice depart. 

And, partial feeling cast aside, 

Eecord that Fox a Briton died ! 

When Europe crouch'd to France's yoke. 

And Austria bent, and Prussia broke. 

And the firm Russian's purpose brave 

Was barter'd by a timorous slave. 

Even then dishonour's peace he spurn'd. 

The sullied olive-branch return'd. 

Stood for his country's glory fast, 160 

And nail'd her colours to the mast ! 

Heaven, to reward his firmness, gave 

A portion in this honour'd grave. 

And ne'er held marble in its trust 

Of two such wondrous men the dust. 



16 MARMION 

With more than mortal powers endowed. 
How high they soar'd above the crowd ! 
Theirs was no common party race. 
Jostling by dark intrigue for place ; 
Like fabled Gods, their mighty war 170 

Shook realms and nations in its jar ; 
Beneath each banner proud to stand, 
LookM up the noblest of the land. 
Till through the British world were known 
The names of Pitt and Fox alone. 
Spells of such force no wizard grave 
E'er framed in dark Thessalian cave. 
Though his could drain the ocean dry. 
And force the planets from the sky. 
These spells are spent, and, spent with these, 180 
The wine of life is on the lees. 
Genius, and taste, and talent gone. 
For ever tombed beneath the stone. 
Where — taming thought to human pride ! — 
The mighty chiefs sleep side by side. 
Drop upon Fox's grave the tear, 
'Twill trickle to his rival's bier ; 
O'er Pitt's the mournful requiem sound. 
And Fox's shall the notes rebound. 
The solemn echo seems to cry, — 190 

" Here let their discord with them die. 
Speak not for those a separate doom, 
Whom Fate made brothers in the tomb ; 
But search the land of living men. 
Where wilt thou find their like again ? " 



Eest, ardent Spirits ! till the cries 
Of dying Nature bid you rise ; 
Not even your Britain's groans can pierce 
The leaden silence of your hearse ; 
Then, how impotent and vain 200 

This grateful tributary strain ! 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIRST 17 

Though not immark'd from northern clime. 
Ye heard the Border Minstrel's rhyme : 
His Gothic harp has o'er you rung ; 

The Bard you deign'd to praise, your deathless names has 
sung. 

Stay yet, illusion, stay a while. 
My wilder'd fancy still beguile ! 
From this high theme how can I part. 
Ere half unloaded is my heart ! 

For all the tears e'er sorrow drew, 210 

And all the raptures fancy knew. 
And all the keener rush of blood. 
That throbs through bard in bard-like mood. 
Were here a tribute mean and low. 
Though all their mingled streams could flow — 
Woe, wonder, and sensation high. 
In one spring-tide of ecstasy ! — 
It will not be — it may not last — 
The vision of enchantment 's past : 

Like frostwork in the morning ray, 220 

The fancied fabric melts away ; 
Each Gothic arch, memorial-stone. 
And long, dim, lofty aisle, are gone ; 
And, lingering last, deception dear. 
The choir's high sounds die on my ear. 
Now slow return the lonely down. 
The silent pastures bleak and brown. 
The farm begirt with copse wood wild, 
Tlie gambols of each frolic child. 

Mixing their shrill cries with the tone 230 

Of Tweed's dark waters rushing on. 

Prompt on unequal tasks to run. 
Thus Nature disciplines her son : 
Meeter, she says, for me to stray. 
And waste the solitary day. 
In plucking from yon fen the reed. 
And watch it floating down the Tweed ; 



18 MARMION 

Or idly list the shrilling lay 

With which the milkmaid cheers her way, 

Marking its cadence rise and fail, 240 

As from the field, beneath her pail. 

She trips it down the uneven dale : 

Meeter for me, by yonder cairn. 

The ancient shepherd's tale to learn ; 

Though oft he stop in rustic fear. 

Lest his old legends tire the ear 

Of one, who, in his simple mind. 

May boast of book -learned taste refined. 

But thou, my friend, canst fitly tell, 
(For few have read romance so well,) 250 

How still the legendary lay 
O'er poet's bosom hokls its sway ; 
How on the ancient minstrel strain 
Time lays his palsied hand in vain ; 
And how our hearts at doughty deeds. 
By warriors wrought in steely weeds. 
Still throb for fear and pity's sake ; 
As when the Champion of the Lake 
Enters Morgana's fated house. 

Or in the Chapel Perilous, 260 

Despising spells and demons' force. 
Holds converse with the unburied corse ; 
Or when, Dame Ganore's grace to move, 
(Alas, that lawless was their love !) 
He sought proud Tarquin in his den. 
And freed full sixty knights ; or when, 
A sinful man, and unconfess'd. 
He took the Sangreal's holy quest. 
And, slumbering, saw the vision high. 
He might not view with waking eye. 270 

The mightiest chiefs of British song 
Scorn'd not such legends to prolong : 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIRST 19 

They gleam through Spenser^s elfin dream. 

And mix in Milton's heavenly theme ; 

And Dryden, in immortal strain. 

Had raised the Table Round again. 

But that a ribald King and Court 

Bade him toil on, to make them sport ; 

Demanded for their niggard pay. 

Fit for their souls, a looser lay, 280 

Licentious satire, song, and play ; 

The world defrauded of the high design. 

Profaned the God-given strength, and marred the lofty line. 

Warm'd by such names, well may we then. 

Though dwindled sons of little men. 

Essay to break a feeble lance 

In the fair fields of old romance ; 

Or seek the moated castle's cell, 

Where long through talisman and spell, 

AVhile tyrants ruled, and damsels wept, 290 

Thy Genius, Chivalry, hath slept : 

There sound the harpings of the North, 

Till he awake and sally forth. 

On venturous quest to prick again. 

In all his arms, with all his train, 

Shield, lance, and brand, and plume, and scarf. 

Fay, giant, dragon, squire, and dwarf. 

And wizard with his wand of might. 

And errant maid on palfrey white. 

Around the Genius weave their spells, 300 

Pure Love, who scarce his passion tells ; 

Mystery, half veiFd and half reveal'd ; 

And Honour, with his spotless shield ; 

Attention, with fix'd eye ; and Fear, 

That loves the tale she shrinks to hear ; 

And gentle Courtesy ; and Faith, 

Unchanged by sufferings, time, or death ; 

And Valour, lion-mettled lord. 

Leaning upon his own good sword. 



20 MARMXON 

Well has thy fair achievement shown, 310 

A worthy meed may thus be won ; 
Ytene's oaks — beneath whose shade 
Their theme the merry minstrels made. 
Of Ascapart, and Bevis bold. 
And that Red King, who, while of old. 
Through Boldrewood the chase he led. 
By his loved huntsman^s arrow bled — 
Ytene^s oaks have heard again 
RenewM such legendary strain ; 
For thou hast sung, how he of Gaul, 320 

That Amadis so famed in hall. 
For Oriana, foiled in fight 
The Necromancer's felon might ; 
And well in modern verse hast wove 
Partenopex's mystic love : 
Hear then, attentive to my lay, 
A knightly tale of Albion^s elder day. 



CANTO FIKST. 
TEE CASTLE. 

I. 

Day set on Norliam^s castled steep. 
And Tweed^s fair river, broad and deep. 

And Cheviot's mountains lone : 
The battled towers, the donjon keep. 
The loophole grates where captives weep. 
The flanking walls that round it sweep. 

In yellow lustre shone. 
The warriors on the turrets high. 
Moving athwart the evening sky. 

Seemed forms of giant height ; 10 

Their armour, as it caught the rays, 
Flash'd back again the western blaze. 

In lines of dazzling light. 

II. 

Saint George's banner, broad and gay. 
Now faded, as the fading ray 

Less bright, and less, was flung ; 
The evening gale had scarce the power 
To wave it on the donjon tower. 

So heavily it hung. 
The scouts had parted on their search, 20 

The castle gates were barr'd ; 
Above the gloomy portal arch. 
Timing his footsteps to a march, 

The warder kept his guard ; 
Low humming, as he paced along. 
Some ancient Border gathering-song. 



22 MARMION [Canto I. 



III. 

A distant trampling sound he hears ; 
He looks abroad, and soon appears. 
O'er Horncliff-hill, a plump of spears. 

Beneath a pennon gay ; 30 

A horseman, darting from the crowd. 
Like lightning from a summer cloud. 
Spurs on his mettled courser proud. 

Before the dark array. 
Beneath the sable palisade. 
That closed the castle barricade. 

His buglehorn he blew ; , 

The warder hasted from the wall. 
And warned the Captain in the hall. 

For well the blast he knew ; 40 

And joyfully that knight did call 
To sewer, squire, and seneschal. 



IV. 

'' Now broach ye a pipe of Malvoisie, 

Bring pasties of the doe, 
And quickly make the entrance free. 
And bid my heralds ready be. 
And every minstrel sound his glee. 

And all our trumpets blow ; 
And, from the platform, spare ye not 
To fire a noble salvo-shot ; 50 

Lord Marmion waits below ! " 
Then to the Castle's lower ward 

Sped forty yeomen tall, 
The iron-studded gates unbarr'd, 
Eaised the portcullis' ponderous guard. 
The lofty palisade unsparr'd. 

And let the drawbridge fall. 



Canto I.] THE CASTLE 23 



V. 

Along the bridge Lord Marmion rode. 

Proudly his red- roan charger trode. 

His helm hung at the saddlebow ; 60 

Well by his visage you might know 

He was a stalworth knight, and keen. 

And had in many a battle been ; 

The scar on his brown cheek reveaVd 

A token true of Bosworth field ; 

His eyebrow dark, and eye of fire, 

ShowM spirit proud, and prompt to ire ; 

Yet lines of thought upon his cheek 

Did deep design and counsel speak. 

His forehead, by his casque worn bare, 70 

His thick mustache, and curly hair. 

Coal-black, and grizzled here and there. 

But more through toil than age ; 
His square-turned joints, and strength of limb, 
Show'd him no carpet knight so trim. 
But in close fight a champion grim, 

'In camps a leader sage. 



VI. 

Well was he arm^d from head to heel. 

In mail and jolate of Milan steel ; 

But his strong helm, of mighty cost, 80 

Was all with burnished gold emboss'd ; 

Amid the plumage of the crest, 

A falcon hovered on her nest. 

With wings outspread, and forward breast ; 

E^en such a falcon, on his shield, 

Soar'd sable in an azure field : 

The golden legend bore aright, 

Wi.\ti checks at mt, to beat^ is big^t. 

Blue was the charger's broider^'d rein ; 



24 MARMION [Canto I. 

Blue ribbons decked his arcbing mane ; 90 

The knightly housing's ample fold 
Was velvet blue, and trapped with gold. 



VII. 

Behind him rode two gallant squires. 

Of noble name, and knightly sires ; 

They burned the gilded spurs to claim : 

For well could each a war-horse tame. 

Could draw the bow, the sword could sway, 

And lightly bear the ring away ; 

Nor less with courteous precepts stored. 

Could dance in hall, and carve at board, 100 

And frame love-ditties passing rare. 

And sing them to a lady fair. 



VIII. i 



Four men-at-arms came at their backs. 

With halbert, bill, and battle-axe : 

They bore Lord Marmion's lance so strong. 

And led his sumpter-mules along. 

And ambling palfrey, when at need 

Him listed ease his battle-steed. 

The last and trustiest of the four 

On high his forky pennon bore ; 110 

Like swallow's tail, in shape and hue, 

Flutter'd the streamer glossy blue. 

Where, blazon'd sable, as before. 

The towering falcon seem'd to soar. 

Last, twenty yeomen, two and two. 

In hosen black, and jerkins blue. 

With falcons broider'd on each breast. 

Attended on their lord's behest. 

Each, chosen for an archer good. 

Knew hunting-craft by lake or wood ; 120 



Canto I.] THE CASTLE 25 

Each one a six-foot bow could bend. 
And far a clotli-yard shaft could send ; 
Each held a boar-spear tough and strong. 
And at their belts their quivers rung. 
Their dusty palfreys and array 
Shew'd they had march'd a weary way. 



IX. 

^Tis meet that I should tell you now. 
How fairly arm'd, and ordered how. 

The soldiers of the guard. 
With musket, pike, and morion, 130 

To welcome noble Marmion, 

Stood in the castle-yard ; 
Minstrels and trumpeters were there. 
The gunner held his linstock yare, 

For welcome-shot prepared : 
Entered the train, and such a clang, 
As then through all his turrets rang, 

Old Norham never heard. 



The guards their morrice-pikes advanced. 

The trumpets flourished brave, 140 

The cannon from the ramparts glanced. 

And thundering welcome gave. 
A blithe salute, in martial sort. 

The minstrels well might sound. 
For, as Lord Marmion crossed the court. 

He scattered angels round. 
^' Welcome to Norham, Marmion ! 

Stout heart, and open hand ! 
Well dost thou brook thy gallant roan. 

Thou flower of English land ! " 150 



26 MABMION [Canto I. 



XL 

Two pnrsnivants, whom tabarts deck. 
With silver scutcheon round their neck. 

Stood on the steps of stone, 
By which you reach the donjon gate. 
And there, with herald pomp and state. 

They haiFd Lord Marmion : 
They haiFd him Lord of Fontenaye, 
Of Lutterward, and Scrivelbaye, 

Of Tamworth tower and town ; 
And he, their courtesy to requite, 160 

Gave them a chain of twelve marks^ weight. 

All as he lighted down. 
'' Now, largesse, largesse. Lord Marmion, 

Knight of the crest of gold ! 
A blazon'd shield, in battle won. 

Ne'er guarded heart so bold/' 



XII. 

They marshalled him to the castle-hall, j 

Where the guests stood all aside, " 

And loudly flourish'd the trumpet-call, i 

And the heralds loudly cried, 170 

— " Room, lordings, room for Lord Marmion, j 

With the crest and helm of gold ! ] 

Full well we know the trophies won \ 

In the lists at Cottiswold : 
There, vainly Ralph de Wilton strove j 

'Gainst Marmion's force to stand ; ^ 

To him he lost his lady-love, 

And to the King his land. ^ j 

Ourselves beheld the listed field, I 

A sight both sad and fair ; 180 

We saw Lord Marmion pierce his shield. 

And saw his saddle bare ; 



Canto I.] THE CASTLE 27 

We saw the victor win the crest. 

He wears with worthy pride ; 
And on the gibbet-tree, reversed. 

His foeman^s scutcheon tied. 
Place, nobles, for the Falcon-Knight ! 

Koom, room, ye gentles gay, 
For him who conquered in the right, 

Marmion of Fontenaye I '^ 190 

XIII. 

Then steppM to meet that noble lord. 

Sir Hugh the Heron bold. 
Baron of Twisell, and of Ford, 

And Captain of the Hold. 
He led Lord Marmion to the deas, 

Eaised o^er the pavement high. 
And placed him in the upper place — 

They feasted full and high : 
The whiles a Northern harper rude 
Chanted a rhyme of deadly feud, 200 

'' Hotu the fierce ThiriuaUs, and Ridleys all, 
Stout Willimondsicick, 
And Hardriding Dick, 

And Hugliie of Haivdon, and Will o' the Wall, 
Have set on Sir Albany Feather stonhaiigh, 
And taken his life at the Deadman's-shaiv.^' 

Scantly Lord Marmion^s ear could brook 
The harper's barbarous lay ; 

Yet much he praised the pains he took. 

And well those pains did pay : 210 

For lady's suit, and minstrel's strain. 
By knight should ne'er be heard in vain. 

XIV. 

'' Now, good Lord Marmion," Heron says^ 
'^ Of your fair courtesy. 



28 MARMION [Canto I. 

I pray you bide some little space 

In this poor tower with me. 
Here may you keep your arms from rust. 

May breathe your war-horse well ; 
Seldom hath pass'd a week but giust 

Or feat of arms befell : 220 

The Scots can rein a mettled steed. 

And love to couch a spear ; — 
Saint George ! a stirring life they lead. 

That have such neighbours near. 
Then stay with us a little space. 

Our northern wars to learn ; 
I pray you, for your lady's grace ! " — 

Lord Marmion's brow grew stern. 



XV. 

The Captain marked his alter'd look. 

And gave a squire the sign ; 230 

A mighty wassel-bowl he took. 

And crown^'d it high with wine. 
'^ Now pledge me here. Lord Marmion : 

But first I pray thee fair. 
Where hast thou left that page of thine, 
That used to serve thy cup of wine. 

Whose beauty was so rare ? 
When last in Raby towers we met. 

The boy I closely eyed. 
And often marked his cheeks were wet 240 

With tears he fain would hide : 
His was no rugged horse-boy's hand. 
To burnish shield or sharpen brand. 

Or saddle battle-steed ; 
But meeter seem'd for lady fair. 
To fan her cheek, or curl her hair. 
Or through embroidery, rich and rare. 

The slender silk to lead : 



Canto I.] THE CASTLE 29 

His skin was fair, his ringlets gold. 

His bosom — when he sigh'd, 250 

The russet doubtlet's rugged fold 

Could scarce repel its pride ! 
Say, hast thou given that lovely youth 

To serve in lady's bower ? 
Or was the gentle page, in sooth, 

A gentle paramour ? " 



XVI. 

Lord Marmion ill could brook such jest ; 

He rolFd his kindling eye. 
With pain his rising wrath suppressed. 

Yet made a calm reply : 260 

*^ That boy thou thought'st so goodly fair. 
He might not brook the northern air. 
More of his fate if thou wouldst learn, 
I left him sick in Lindisfarn : 
Enough of him. — But, Heron, say. 
Why does thy lovely lady gay 
'Disdain to grace the hall to-day ? 
Or has that dame, so fair and sage. 
Gone on some pious pilgrimage ? " — 
He spoke in covert scorn, for fame 270 

Whispered light tales of Heron's dame. 



XVII. 

Unmarked, at least unreck'd, the taunt. 
Careless the knight replied, 

" No bird, whose feathers gaily flaunt. 
Delights in cage to bide . 

Norham is grim and grated close, 

HemmM in by battlement and fosse. 
And many a darksome tower ; 



30 MARMION [Canto I. 

And better loves my lady bright 

To sit in liberty and light, 280 

In fair Queen Margaret's bower. 
We hold our greyhound in our hand. 

Our falcon on our glove ; 
But where shall we find leash or band. 

For dame that loves to rove ? 
Let the wild falcon soar her swing. 
She'll stoop when she has tired her wing/' — 



XVIII. 

" Nay, if with Eoyal James's bride 

The lovely Lady Heron bide. 

Behold me here a messenger, 290 

Your tender greetings prompt to bear ; 

For, to the Scottish court address'd, 

I journey at our King's behest. 

And pray you, of your grace, provide 

For me, and mine, a trusty guide. 

I have not ridden in Scotland since 

James back'd the cause of that mock prince, 

"Warbeck, that Flemish counterfeit. 

Who on the gibbet paid the cheat. 

Then did I march with Surrey's power, 300 

What time we razed old Ay ton tower." — 

XIX. 

" For such-like need, my lord, I trow, 
Norham can find you guides enow ; 
For here be some have prick'd as far. 
On Scottish ground, as to Dunbar ; 
Have drunk the monks of Saint Bothan's ale. 
And driven the beeves of Lauderdale ; 
Harried the wives of Greenlaw's goods. 
And given them light to set their hoods." — 



Canto I.] THE CASTLE 31 



XX. 

'^Now, in good sooth/' Lord Marmion cried, 310 

'^ Were I in warlike wise to ride, 

A better guard I would not lack. 

Than your stout forayers at my back ; 

But as in form of peace I go, 

A friendly messenger, to know. 

Why through all Scotland, near and far. 

Their King is mustering troops for war. 

The sight of plundering Border spears 

Might justify suspicious fears. 

And deadly feud, or thirst of spoil, 320 

Break out in some unseemly broil : 

A herald were my fitting guide ; 

Or friar, sworn in peace to bide ; 

Or pardoner, or travelling priest. 

Or strolling pilgrim, at the least." 

XXI. 

The Captain mused a little space, 

And passM his hand across his face. 

— " Fain would I find the guide you want. 

But ill may spare a pursuivant, 

The only men that safe can ride 330 

Mine errands on the Scottish side : 

And though a bishop built this fort. 

Few holy brethren here resort ; 

Even our good chaplain, as I ween. 

Since our last siege, we have not seen : 

The mass he might not sing or say. 

Upon one stinted meal a-day ; 

So, safe he sat in Durham aisle, 

And prayM for our success the while. 

Our Norham vicar, woe betide, 340 

Is all too well in case to ride : 



MARMION [Canto 1. 

The priest of Shores wood— he con hi rein 

The wihiest war-horse in your train ; 

But then, no spearman in the hall 

Will sooner swear, or stab, or brawl. 

Friar John of Tillmouth were the man : 

A blithesome brother at the can, 

A welcome guest in hall and bower. 

He knows each castle, toAvn, and tower. 

In which the wine and ale is good, 350 

''Twixt Newcastle and Holy-Rood. 

But that good man, as ill befalls. 

Hath seldom left our castle walls. 

Since, on the vigil of Saint Bede, 

In evil hour he cross'd the Tweed, 

To teach Dame Alison her creed. 

Old Bughtrig found him with his wife ; 

And John, an enemy to strife. 

Sans frock and hood, fled for his life. 

The jealous churl hath deeply swore, 360 

That, if again he venture o'er. 

He shall shrieve penitent no more. 

Little he loves such risks, I know ; 

Yet, in your guard, perchance will go." 

XXII. 

Young Selby, at the fair hall-board, 

Carved to his uncle and that lord. 

And reverently took up the word. 

*' Kind uncle, woe were we each one. 

If harm should hap to brother John. 

He is a man of mirthful speech, 370 

Can many a game and gambol teach ; 

Full well at tables can he play. 

And sweep at bowls the stake away. 

None can a lustier carol bawl. 

The needfullest among us all. 

When time hangs heavy in the hall. 



Canto I.J THE GASTLE 33 

And snow comes thick at Christmas tide, 

And we can neither hunt, nor ride 

A foray on the Scottish side. 

The vow^d revenge of Bughtrig rude 380 

May end in worse than loss of hood. 

Let Friar John, in safety, still 

In chimney-corner snore his fill, 

Roast hissing crabs, or flagons swill : 

Last night, to Norham there came one. 

Will better guide Lord Marmion." — 

"Nephew,'' quoth Heron, ''by my fay, 

Well hast thou spoke ; say forth thy say." — 

XXIII. 

" Here is a holy Palmer come. 

From Salem first, and last from Rome ; 390 

One that hath kiss'd the blessed tomb. 
And visited each holy shrine 
In Araby and Palestine ; 
On hills of Armenie hath been. 
Where Xoah's ark may yet be seen ; 
^By that Red Sea, too, hath he trod. 
Which parted at the Prophet's rod ; 
In Sinai's wilderness he saw 
The Mount where Israel heard the law, 
'Mid thunder-dint and flashing levin, 400 

And shadows, mists, and darkness, given. 
He shows Saint James's cockle-shell. 
Of fair Montserrat, too, can tell ; 

And of that Grot where Olives nod. 
Where, darling of each heart and eye. 
From all the youth of Sicily, 

Saint Rosalie retired to God. 

XXIV. 

" To stout Saint George of Norwich merry. 
Saint Thomas, too, of Canterbury, 



34 MABMION [Canto I. 

Cuthbert of Durham and Saint Bede, 410 

For his sins' pardon hath he pray'd. 

He knows the passes of the North, 

And seeks far shrines beyond the Forth ; 

Little he eats, and long will wake. 

And drinks but of the stream or lake. 

This were a guide o'er moor and dale ; 

But, when our John hath quaff'd his ale. 

As little as the wind that blows. 

And warms itself against his nose. 

Kens he, or cares, which way he goes." — 420 

XXV. 

^' Gramercy ! " quoth Lord Marmion, 
^' Full loth were I, that Friar John, 
That venerable man, for me. 
Were placed in fear or jeopardy. 
If this same Palmer will me lead 

From hence to Holy-Rood, 
Like his good saint, I'll pay his meed. 
Instead of cockle-shell, or bead. 

With angels fair and good. 
I love such holy ramblers ; still 430 

They know to charm a weary hill. 

With song, romance, or lay : 
Some jovial tale, or glee, or jest. 
Some lying legend, at the least. 

They bring to cheer the way." — 

XXVI. 

" Ah ! noble sir," young Selby said. 

And finger on his lip he laid, 

'' This man knows much, perchance e'en more 

Than he could learn by holy lore. 

Still to himself he 's muttering, 440 

And shrinks as at some unseen thing. 



Cakto I.] THE CASTLE 35 

Last night we listened at his cell ; 

Strange sounds we heard, and, sooth to tell, 

He murmur'd on till morn, howe'er 

No living mortal could be near. 

Sometimes I thought I heard it plain. 

As other voices spoke again. 

I cannot tell — I like it not — 

Friar John hath told us it is wrote, 

No conscience clear, and void of wrong, 450 

Can rest awake, and pray so long. 

Himself still sleeps before his beads 

Have mark'd ten aves, and two creeds." — 

XXVII. 

— ^'^Let pass," quoth Marmion ; " by my fay. 

This man shall guide me on my way. 

Although the great arch-fiend and he 

Had sworn themselves of company. 

So please you, gentle youth, to call 

This Palmer to the castle-hall." 

The summoned Palmer came in place ; 460 

His sable cowl overhung his face ; 

In his black mantle was he clad. 

With Peter^'s keys, in cloth of red. 

On his broad shoulders wrought ; 
The scallop shell his cap did deck ; 
The crucifix around his neck 

Was from Loretto brought ; 
His sandals were with travel tore. 
Staff, budget, bottle, scrip, he wore ; 
The faded palm-branch in his hand 470 

Showed pilgrim from the Holy Land. 

XXVIII. 

"When as the Palmer came in hall, 

Nor lord nor knisfht was there more tall, 



36 MABMION [Canto I. 

Or had a statelier step withal. 

Or look'd more high and keen ; 
For no saluting did he wait. 
But strode across the hall of state. 
And fronted Marmion where he sate. 

As he his peer had been. 
But his gaunt frame was worn with toil ; 480 

His cheek was sunk, alas the while ! 
And when he struggled at a smile, 

His eye looked haggard wild : 
Poor wretch ! the mother that him bare. 
If she had been in presence there. 
In his wan face, and sun-burn'd hair. 

She had not known her child. 
Danger, long travel, want, or woe, 
Soon change the form that best we know — 
For deadly fear can time outgo, 490 

And blanch at once the hair ; 
Hard toil can roughen form and face. 
And want can quench the eye's bright grace, 
Nor does old age a wrinkle trace 

More deeply than despair. 
Happy whom none of these befall. 
But this poor Palmer knew them all. 

XXIX. 

Lord Marmion then his boon did ask ; 

The Palmer took on him the task. 

So he would march with morning tide, 500 

To Scottish court to be his guide. 

'^ But I have solemn vows to pay. 

And may not linger by the way. 

To fair Saint Andrew's bound. 
Within the ocean-cave to pray. 
Where good Saint Eule his holy lay. 
From midnight to the dawn of day. 

Sung to the billows' sound ; 



Canto I] THE CASTLE 37 

Thence to Saint Fillan's blessed well, 

Whose spring can frenzied dreams dispel, 510 

And the crazed brain restore : 
Saint Mary grant that cave or spring 
Could back to peace my bosom bring. 

Or bid it throb no more ! " 



XXX. 

And now the midnight draught of sleep, 
Where wine and spices richly steep, 
In massive bowl of silver deep. 

The page presents on knee. 
Lord Marmion drank a fair good rest. 
The Captain pledged his noble guest, 520 

The cup went through among the rest. 

Who drained it merrily ; 
Alone the Palmer pass'd it by. 
Though Selby pressed him courteously. 
This was a sign the feast was o^'er ; 
It hush'd the merry wassel roar. 

The minstrels ceased to sound. 
Soon in the castle nought was heard, 
But the slow footstep of the guard. 

Pacing his sober round. 530 

XXXI. 

With early dawn Lord Marmion rose : 

And first the chapel doors unclose ; 

Then, after morning rites were done, 

(A hasty mass from Friar John,) 

And knight and squire had broke their fast. 

On rich substantial repast, 

Lord Marmion's bugles blew to horse : 

Then came the stirrup-cup in course ; 

Between the Baron and his host, 

IN'o point of courtesy was lost ; 540 



38 MARMION [Canto I. 

High thanks were by Lord Marmion paid, 
Solemn excuse the Captain made, 
Till, filing from the gate, had past 
That noble train, their Lord the last. 
Then loudly rung the trumpet call ; 
Thunder'd the cannon from the wall. 

And shook the Scottish shore ; 
Around the castle eddied slow 
Volumes of smoke as white as snow. 

And hid its turrets hoar ; 550 

Till they roll'd forth upon the air. 
And met the river breezes there, 
Which gave again the prospect fair. 



41 



INTKODUCTION TO CANTO SECOND. 



TO THE REV, JOHN HARRIOT, ]\LA. 

Ashestiel^ Ettrick Forest. 

The scenes are desert now, and bare. 

Where flourished once a forest fair. 

When these waste glens with copse were lined. 

And peopled with the hart and hind. 

Yon Thorn — perchance whose prickly spears 

Have fenced him for three hundred years. 

While fell around his green compeers — 

Yon lonely Thorn, would he could tell 

The changes of his parent dell. 

Since he, so grey and stubborn now, 10 

Waved in each breeze a sapling bongh ; 

lYould he could tell how deep the shade 

A thousand mingled branches made ; 

How broad the shadows of the oak, 

How clung the rowan to the rock. 

And through the foliage showed his head. 

With narrow leaves and berries red ; 

What pines on every mountain sprung, 

O^er every dell what birches hung. 

In every breeze what aspens shook, 20 

What alders shaded every brook ! 

'' Here, in my shade, ^^ methinks he'd say, 
^' The mighty stag at noon-tide lay ; 
The wolf IVe seen, a fiercer game, 
(The neighbouring dingle bears his name,) 
With lurching step around me prowl. 
And stop, against tlie moon to howl ; 



3^ 



3IARMI0N 

The mountain-boar, on battle set. 

His tusks upon my stem would whet ; 

While doe, and roe, and red-deer good, 30 

Have bounded by, through gay green-wood. 

Then oft, from Newark^s riven tower. 

Sallied a Scottish monarch's power : 

A thousand vassals muster'd round. 

With horse, and hawk, and horn, and hound ; 

And I might see the youth intent. 

Guard every pass with crossbow bent ; 

And through the brake the rangers stalk. 

And falconers hold the ready hawk ; 

And foresters, in green- wood trim, 40 

Lead in the leash the gazehounds grim, 

Attentive, as the bratchet's bay 

From the dark covert drove the prey. 

To slip them as he broke away. 

The startled quarry bounds amain. 

As fast the gallant greyhounds strain ; 

Whistles the arrow from the bow. 

Answers the harquebuss below ; 

While all the rocking hills reply, 

To hoof-clang, hound, and hunters' cry, 50 

And bugles ringing lightsomely." 



Of such proud huntings, many tales \ 

Yet linger in our lonely dales, 

Up pathless Ettrick and on Yarrow, \ 

Where erst the outlaw drew his arrow. \ 

But not more blithe that silvan court, 
Than we have been at humbler sport ; 
Though small our pomp, and mean our game. 
Our mirth, dear Harriot, was the same. 
Eemember'st thou my greyhounds true ? - 60 

O'er holt or hill there never flew. 
From slip or leash there never sprang. 
More fleet of foot, or sure of fang. 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SECOND 41 

Nor dull, between each merry chase, 

Pass'd by the intermitted space ; 

For we had fair resource in store. 

In Classic and in Gothic lore : 

We marked each memorable scene. 

And held poetic talk between ; 

K^or hill, nor brook, we paced along, 70 

But had its legend or its song. 

All silent now — for now are still 

Thy bowers, untenanted Bowhill ! 

No longer, from thy mountains dun. 

The yeoman hears the well-known gun. 

And while his honest heart glows warm. 

At thought of his paternal farm. 

Round to his mates a brimmer fills. 

And drinks, " The Chieftain of the Hills \" 

No fairy forms, in Yarrow^s boAvers, 80 

Trip o'er the walks, or tend the flowers. 

Fair as the elves whom Janet saw 

By moonlight dance on Carterhaugh ; 

No youthful Baron "s left to grace 

The Forest-Sheriff's lonely chase. 

And ape, in manly step and tone. 

The majesty of Oberon : 

And she is gone, whose lovely face 

Is but her least and lowest grace ; 

Though if to Sylphid Queen 'twere given, 90 

To show our earth the charms of Heaven, 

She could not glide along the air. 

With form more light, or face more fair. 

No more the widow's deafen'd ear 

Grows quick, that lady's step to hear : 

At noontide she expects her not. 

Nor busies her to trim the cot ; 

Pensive she turns her humming wheel. 

Or pensive cooks her orphans' meal, 

Yet blesses, ere she deals their bread, 100 

The gentle hand by which they're fed. 



42 MARMION 

From Yair, — which hills so closely bind, 
Scarce can the Tweed his passage find. 
Though much he fret, and chafe, and toil. 
Till all his eddying currents boil, — 
Her long descended lord is gone, 
And left us by the stream alone. 
And much I miss those sportive boys. 
Companions of my mountain joys. 
Just at the age ^twixt boy and youth, 110 

When thought is speech, and speech is truth. 
Close to my side, with what delight 
They pressed to hear of Wallace wight. 
When, pointing to his airy mound, 
I caird his ramparts holy ground ! 
Kindled their brows to hear me speak ; 
And I have smiled, to feel my cheek. 
Despite the difference of our years, 
Keturn again the glow of theirs. 
Ah, happy boys ! such feelings pure, 120 

They will not, cannot long endure ; 
Condemned to stem the world's rude tide. 
You may not linger by the side ; 
For Fate shall thrust you from the shore, 
And passion ply the sail and oar. 
Yet cherish the remembrance still 
Of the lone mountain, and the rill ; 
For trust, dear boys, the time will come. 
When fiercer transport shall be dumb, 
And you will think right frequently, 130 

But, well I hope, without a sigh. 
On the free hours that we have spent. 
Together, on the brown hilPs bent. 

When, musing on companions gone, 
We doubly feel ourselves alone. 
Something, my friend, we yet may gain ; 
There is a pleasure in this pain : 
It soothes the love of lonely rest, 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SECOND 43 

Deep in each gentler heart impressed. 

^Tis silent amid worldly toils, 140 

And stifled soon by mental broils ; 

But, in a bosom thus prej^ared, 

Its still small voice is often heard, 

AVhispering a mingled sentiment, 

^Twixt resignation and content. 

Oft in my mind such thoughts awake. 

By lone Saint Mary^s silent lake ; 

Thou know'st it well, — nor fen, nor sedge. 

Pollute the pure lake's crystal edge ; 

Abrupt and sheer, the mountains sink 150 

At once upon the level brink ; 

And just a trace of silver sand 

Marks where the water meets the land. 

Far in the mirror, bright and blue, 

Each hill's huge outline you may view ; 

Shaggy with heath, but lonely bare, 

Nor tree, nor bush, nor brake is there. 

Save where, of land, yon slender line 

Bears thwart the lake the scatter'd pine. 

Yet even this nakedness has power, 160 

And aids the feeling of the hour : 

Nor thicket, dell, nor copse you spy, 

Where living thing conceal'd might lie ; 

Nor point, retiring, hides a dell. 

Where swain, or woodman lone, might dwell ; 

There's nothing left to fancy's guess. 

You see that all is loneliness : 

And silence aids — though the steep hills 

Send to the lake a thousand rills ; 

In summer tide so soft they weep, 170 

The sound but lulls the ear asleep ; 

Your horse's hoof -tread sounds too rude. 

So stilly is the solitude. 

Nought living meets the eye or ear. 
But well I ween the dead are near ; 



44: MARMION 

For though, in feudal strife, a foe 

Hath laid Qur Lady's chapel low. 

Yet still, beneath the hallow'd soil. 

The peasant rests him from his toil. 

And, dying, bids his bones be laid, 180 

Where erst his simple fathers pray'd. 

If age had tamed the passions' strife. 
And fate had cut my ties to life. 
Here, have I thought, 'twere sweet to dwell. 
And rear again the chaplain's cell. 
Like that same peaceful hermitage, 
AVhere Milton long'd to sj)end his age. 
'Twere sweet to mark the setting day 
On Bourhope's lonely top decay ; 
And, as it faint and feeble died 190 

On the broad lake, and mountain's side. 
To say, " Thus pleasures fade away ; 
Youth, talents, beauty thus decay, 
And leave us dark, forlorn, and grey ; '^ 
Then gaze on Dryhope's ruin'd tower. 
And think on Yarrow's faded Flower : 
And when that mountain-sound I heard, 
Which bids us be for storm prepared. 
The distant rustling of his wings, 
As up his force the Tempest brings, 200 

'Twere sweet, ere yet his terrors rave. 
To sit upon the Wizard's grave ; 
That Wizard Priest's, whose bones are thrust 
From company of holy dust ; 
On which no sunbeam ever shines 
(So superstition's creed divines) ; 
Thence view the lake, with sullen roar. 
Heave her broad billows to the shore ; 
And mark the wild swans mount the gale. 
Spread wide through mist their snowy sail, 210 

And ever stoop again, to lave 
Their bosoms on the surging wave ; 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SECOND 45 

Then, when against the driving hail 

No longer might my plaid avail, 

Back to my lonely home retire. 

And light my lamp, and trim my fire ; 

There ponder o'er some mystic lay. 

Till the wild tale had all its sway. 

And, in the bittern's distant shriek, 

I heard unearthly voices speak, 220 

And thought the Wizard Priest was come. 

To claim again his ancient home ! 

And bade my busy fancy range, 

To frame him fitting shape and strange. 

Till from the task my brow I clear'd. 

And smiled to think that I had fear'd. 



But chief, 'twere sweet to think such life, 
(Though but escape from fortune's strife,) 
Something most matchless good and wise, 
A great and grateful sacrifice ; 230 

And deem each hour to musing given 
A step upon the road to heaven. 

Yet him, whose heart is ill at ease. 
Such peaceful solitudes displease ; 
He loves to drown his bosom's jar 
Amid the elemental war : 
And my black Palmer's choice had been 
Some ruder and more savage scene, 
Like that which frowns round dark Loch Skene. 
There eagles scream from isle to shore ; 240 

Down all the rocks the torrents roar ; 
O'er the black waves incessant driven. 
Dark mists infect the summer heaven ; 
Through the rude barriers of the lake 
Away its hurrying waters break, 
Faster and whiter dash and curl, 
Till down yon dark abyss they hurl. 



46 MARMION 

Rises the fog-smoke white as snow. 

Thunders the viewless stream below. 

Diving, as if condemned to lave 250 

Some demon's subterranean cave, 

Who, prisoned by enchanter's spell. 

Shakes the dark rock with groan and yell. 

And well that Palmer's form and mien 

Had suited with the stormy scene. 

Just on the edge, straining his ken 

To view the bottom of the den, 

Where, deep, deep down, and far within. 

Toils with the rocks the roaring linn ; 

Then, issuing forth one foamy wave, 260 

And wheeling round the Giant's Grave, 

White as the snowy charger's tail. 

Drives down the pass of Moffatdale. 

Harriot, thy harp, on Isis strung. 
To many a Border theme has rung : 
Then list to me, and thou shalt know 
Of this mysterious Man of Woe. 



CANTO SECOND. 

THE CONVENT, 

I. 

The breeze, which swept away the smoke 

Round Norham Castle rolFd, 
When all the loud artillery spoke, 
With lightning-flash, and thunder-stroke. 

As Marmion left the hold — 
It curl'd not Tweed alone, that breeze. 
For, far upon Northumbrian seas, 

It freshly blew, and strong. 
Where, from high Whitby's cloistered pile. 
Bound to Saint Cuthbert's Holy Isle, 10 

It bore a bark along. 
Upon the gale she stoop'd her side. 
And bounded o^er the swelling tide. 

As she were dancing home ; 
The merry seamen laugh'd to see 
Their gallant ship so lustily 

Furrow the green sea-foam. 
Much joyVl they in their honoured freight ; 
For, on the deck, in chair of state. 
The Abbess of Saint Hilda placed, 20 

With five fair nuns, the galley graced. 

II. 

'Twas sweet to see these holy maids, 
Like birds escaped to green-wood shades. 

Their first flight from the cage, 
How timid, and how curious too, 



48 MARMIOJSr [Canto II. 

For all to them was strange and new, 
And all the common sights they view 

Their wonderment engage. 
One eyed the shrouds and swelling sail 

With many a benedicite ; 30 

One at the rippling surge grew pale. 

And would for terror pray ; 
Then shrieked, because the seadog, nigh, 
His round black head, and sparkling eye, 

Eear'd o'er the foaming spray ; 
And one would still adjust her veil. 
Disordered by the summer gale. 
Perchance lest some more worldly eye 
Her dedicated charms might spy. 
Perchance, because such action graced 40 

Her fair-turn'd arm and slender waist. 
Light was each simple bosom there. 
Save two, who ill might pleasure share, — 
The Abbess, and the Novice Clare. 

III. 

The Abbess was of noble blood. 

But early took the veil and hood. 

Ere upon life she cast a look. 

Or knew the world that she forsook. 

Fair too she was, and kind had been 

As she was fair, but ne'er had seen 50 

For her a timid lover sigh. 

Nor knew the influence of her eye. 

Love, to her ear, was but a name. 

Combined with vanity and shame ; 

Her hopes, her fears, her joys, were all 

Bounded within the cloister wall ; 

The deadliest sin her mind could reach 

Was of monastic rule the breach ; 

And her ambition's highest aim 

To emulate Saint Hilda's fame. 60 



Canto ll.j THE CONVENT 49 

For this she gave her ample dower. 
To raise the convent's eastern tower ; 
For this, with carving rare and quaint. 
She decked the chapel of the saint. 
And gave the relic-shrine of cost. 
With ivory and gems emboss'd. 
The poor her convent's bounty blest. 
The pilgrim in its halls found rest. 



IV. 

Black was her garb, her rigid rule 

Reform^'d on Benedictine school ; 70 

Her cheek was pale, her form was spare ; 

Vigils, and penitence austere. 

Had early quench'd the light of youth. 

But gentle was the dame, in sooth ; 

Though, vain of her religious sway. 

She loved to see her maids obey. 

Yet nothing stern was she in cell. 

And the nuns loved their Abbess well. 

Sad was this voyage to the dame ; 

Summon^ to Lindisfarne, she came, 80 

There, with Saint Cuthbert's Abbot old. 

And TynemoutVs Prioress, to hold 

A chapter of Saint Benedict, 

For inquisition stern and strict. 

On two apostates from the faith. 

And, if need were, to doom to death. 



V. 

Nought say I here of Sister Clare, 

Save this, that she was young and fair ; 

As yet a novice unprofessM, 

Lovely and gentle, but distressed. 90 

She was betrothed to one now dead, 

Or worse, Avho had dishonoured fled. 



60 MARMION [Canto IJ 

Her kinsmen bade her give her hand 
To one who loved her for her land : 
Herself, almost broken-hearted now. 
Was bent to take the vestal vow. 
And shroud, within Saint Hilda's gloom. 
Her blasted hopes and wither^ bloom. 



VI. 

She sate upon the galley's prow, 

And seem'd to mark the waves below ; 100 

Nay, seemM, so fix'd her look and eye. 

To count them as they glided by. 

She saw them not — 'twas seeming all — 

Far other scene her thoughts recall, — 

A sun-scorch'd desert, waste and bare, 

Nor waves, nor breezes, murmur'd there ; 

There saw she, where some careless hand 

O'er a dead corpse had heap'd the sand. 

To hide it till the jackals come, 

To tear it from the scanty tomb. — 110 

See what a woeful look was given. 

As she raised up her eyes to heaven ! 

VII. 

Lovely, and gentle, and distress'd — 

These charms might tame the fiercest breast : 

Harpers have sung, and poets told, 

That he, in fury uncontroll'd. 

The shaggy monarch of the wood. 

Before a virgin, fair and good. 

Hath pacified his savage mood. 

But passions in the human frame 120 

Oft put the lion's rage to shame : 

And jealousy, by dark intrigue, 

With sordid avarice in league. 

Had practised with their bowl and knife, 



Canto II.] THE CONVENT 51 

Against the mourner's harmless life. 

This crime was charged 'gainst those who lay 

Prison'd in Cuthbert's islet grey. 

VIII. 

And now the vessel skirts the strand 

Of monntainons Northumberland ; 

Towns, towers, and halls successive rise, 130 

And catch the nuns' delighted eyes. 

Monk-Wearmouth soon behind them lay. 

And T}Tiemouth's priory and bay ; 

They mark'd, amid her trees, the hall 

Of lofty Seaton-Delaval ; 

They saw the Blythe and Wansbeck floods 

Kush to the sea through sounding woods ; 

They pass'd the tower of Widderington, 

Mother of many a valiant son ; 

At Coquet-isle their beads they tell 140 

To the good Saint who own'd the cell ; 

Then did the Alne attention claim. 

And Warkworth, proud of Percy's name ; 

And next they cross'd themselves to hear 

The" whitening breakers sound so near. 

Where, boiling through the rocks, they roar 

On Dunstanborough's cavern'd shore ; 

Thy tower, proud Bamborough, mark'd they there, 

King Ida's castle, huge and square. 

From its tall rock look grimly down, 150 

And on the swelling ocean frown ; 

Then from the coast they bore away. 

And reach'd the Holy Island's bay. 

IX. 

The tide did now its flood-mark gain. 
And girdled in the Saint's domain : 
For, with the flow and ebb, its style 
Varies from continent to isle ; 



52 MARMION [Canto II. 

Dry shod, o'er sands, twice every day. 

The pilgrims to the shrine find way ; 

Twice every day, the waves efface 160 

Of staves and sandalFd feet the trace. . 

As to the port the galley flew. 

Higher and higher rose to view 

The castle with its battled walls, . 

The ancient monastery's halls, 

A solemn, huge, and dark-red pile. 

Placed on the margin of the isle. 



X. 

In Saxon strength that abbey frown'd. 
With massive arches broad and round. 

That rose alternate, row and row, 170 

On ponderous columns, short and low. 
Built ere the art was known. 

By pointed aisle, and shafted stalk. 

The arcades of an alley'd walk 
To emulate in stone. 
On the deep walls, the heathen Dane 
Had pour'd his impious rage in vain ; 
And needful was such strength to these. 
Exposed to the tempestuous seas. 
Scourged by the winds' eternal sway, 180 

Open to rovers fierce as they. 
Which could twelve hundred years withstand 
Winds, waves, and northern pirates' hand. 
Not but that portions of the pile, 
Rebuilded in a later style, 
Show'd where the spoiler's hand had been ; 
Not but the wasting sea-breeze keen 
Had worn the pillar's carving quaint, 
And moulder'd in his niche the saint. 
And rounded, with consuming power, 190 

The pointed angles of each tower ; 



Canto II.] THE CONVENT 53 

Yet still entire the abbey stood, 
Like veteran, worn, but unsubdued. 



XI. 

Soon as they near'd his turrets strong. 
The maidens raised Saint Hilda^s song. 
And with the sea-wave and the wind 
Their voices, sweetly shrill, combined. 

And made harmonious close ; 
Then, answering from the sandy shore, 
Half-drown'd amid the breakers' roar, 200 

According chorus rose : 
Down to the haven of the Isle 
The monks and nuns in order file. 

From Cuthbert's cloisters grim ; 
Banner, and cross, and relics there. 
To meet Saint Hilda's maids, they bare ; 
And, as they caught the sounds on air. 

They echoed back the hymn. 
The islanders, in joyous mood, 
Rush'd emulously through the flood 210 

To hale the bark to land ; 
Conspicuous by her veil and hood. 
Signing the cross, the Abbess stood. 

And bless'd them with her hand. 

XII. 

Suppose we now the welcome said. 
Suppose the convent banquet made : 

All through the holy dome. 
Through cloister, aisle, and gallery. 
Wherever vestal maid might pr}^, 
Nor risk to meet unhallow'd eye, 220 

The stranger sisters roam ; 
Till fell the evening damp with dew, 
And the sharp sea-breeze coldly blew. 



54 MABMION [Canto II. j 

For there even summer night is chill. i 
Then, having strayed and gazed their fill. 

They closed around the fire ; ' 

And all, in turn, essayed to paint i 

The rival merits of their saint, j 

A theme that ne'er can tire | 
A holy maid ; for be it known 230 j 

That their saint's honour is their own. I 

XIII. j 

Then Whitby's nuns exulting told ' 

How to their house three barons bold 

Must menial service do ; 
While horns blow out a note of shame. 
And monks cry '^^Fye upon your name ! 
In wrath, for loss of silvan game, i 

Saint Hilda^s priest ye slew." — 
^' This, on Ascension-day, each year, I 

While labouring on our harbour-pier, 240 

Must Herbert, Bruce, and Percy hear." — ' 

They told how in their convent-cell 
A Saxon princess once did dwell. 

The lovely Edelfled ; j 

And how, of thousand snakes, each one \ 

Was changed into a coil of stone, | 

When holy Hilda pray'd ; I 

Themselves, within their holy bound, | 

Their stony folds had often found. | 

They told how sea-fowls' pinions fail, 250 

As over Whitby's towers they sail. 
And, sinking down, with flutterings faint, 
They do their homage to the saint. 

XIV. ' I 

Nor did Saint Cuthbert's daughters fail i 

To vie with these in holy tale ; - 



Canto II.] THE CONVENT 65 

His body's resting-place, of old. 

How oft their patron changed, they told ; 

How, when the rude Dane burn'd their pile, 

The monks fled forth from Holy Isle ; 

O'er northern mountain, marsh, and moor, 2G0 

From sea to sea, from shore to shore. 

Seven years Saint Cuthbert's corpse they bore. 

They rested them in fair Melrose ; 
But though, alive, he loved it well^ 

Not there his relics might repose ; 
For, wondrous tale to tell ! 

In his stone-coffin forth he rides, 

A ponderous bark for river tides. 

Yet light as gossamer it glides, 

Downward to Tilmouth cell. 270 

Nor long was his abiding there. 
For southward did the saint repair ; 
Chester-le-Street and liipon saw 
His holy corpse, ere Wardilaw 

Hail'd him with joy and fear ; 
And, after many wanderings past. 
He chose his lordly seat at last 
Where his cathedral, huge and vast, 

Lopks down upon the Wear. 
There, deep in Durham's Gothic shade, 280 

His relics are in secret laid ; 

But none may know the place. 
Save of his holiest servants three. 
Deep sworn to solemn secrecy. 

Who share that wondrous grace. 



XV. 

Who may his miracles declare ! 

Even Scotland's dauntless king, and heir, 

(Although with them they led 
Galwegians, wild as ocean's gale. 



56 MARMION [Canto II. 

And Lodon^s knights, all sheathed in mail, 290 

And the bold men of Teviotdale,) 

Before his standard fled. 
^Twas he, to vindicate his reign. 
Edged Alfred^s falchion on the Dane, 
And turn'd the Conqueror back again. 
When, with his Norman bowyer band. 
He came to waste Northumberland. 

XVI. 

But fain Saint Hilda's nuns would learn 

If, on a rock, by Lindisfarne, 

Saint Cuthbert sits, and toils to frame 300 

The sea-born beads that bear his name : 

Such tales had Whitby's fishers told. 

And said they might his shape behold. 

And hear his anvil sound ; 
A deaden'd clang, — a huge dim form, 
Seen but, and heard, when gathering storm 

And night were closing round. 
But this, as tale of idle fame. 
The nuns of Lindisfarne disclaim. 

XVII. 

While round the fire such legends go, 310 

Far different was the scene of woe. 
Where, in a secret aisle beneath. 
Council was held of life and death. 

It was more dark and lone, that vault. 
Than the worst dungeon cell ; 

Old Colwulf built it, for his fault 
In penitence to dwell. 
When he, for cowl and beads, laid down 
The Saxon battle-axe and crown. 
This den, which, chilling every sense 320 

Of feeling, hearing, sight. 



Canto II.] THE CONVENT 57 

Was call'd the Vault of Penitence, 

Excluding air and light, 
Was, by the prelate Sexhelm, made 
A place of burial for such dead 
As, having died in mortal sin. 
Might not be laid the church within. 
^Twas now a place of punishment ; 
Whence if so loud a shriek were sent. 

As reach'd the upper air, 330 

The hearers bless'd themselves, and said 
The spirits of the sinful dead 

Bemoan'd their torments there. 



XVIII. 

But though, in the monastic pile. 
Did of this penitential aisle 

Some vague tradition go. 
Few only, save the Abbot, knew 
Where the place lay ; and still more few 
Were those who had from him the clew 

To that dread vault to go. 340 

Victim and executioner 
Weiie blindfold when transported there. 
In low dark rounds the arches hung. 
From the rude rock the side-walls sprung ; 
The grave-stones, rudely sculptured o^er. 
Half sunk in earth, by time half wore. 
Were all tlie pavement of the floor ; 
The mildew-drops fell one by one. 
With tinkling plash, upon the stone. 
A cresset, in an iron chain, 350 

Which served to light this drear domain, 
With damp and darkness seem'd to strive, 
As if it scarce might keep alive ; 
And yet it dimly served to show 
The awful conclave met below. 



58 MARMION [Canto II. 

XIX. 

There, met to doom in secrecy, 

AVere placed the heads of convents three ; 

All servants of Saint Benedict, 

The statutes of whose order strict 

On iron table lay ; 360 

In long black dress, on seats of stone, 
Behind were these three judges shown 

By the pale cresset's ray : 
The Abbess of Saint Hilda's there 
Sat for a space with visage bare. 
Until, to hide her bosom's swell. 
And tear-drops that for pity fell, 

She closely drew her veil : 
Yon shrouded figure, as I guess, 
By her proud mien and flowing dress, 370 

Is Tynemouth's haughty Prioress, 

And she with awe looks pale : 
And he, that ancient man, whose sight 
Has long been quench'd by age's night. 
Upon whose wrinkled brow alone 
Nor ruth nor mercy's trace is shown. 

Whose look is hard and stern, — 
Saint Cuthbert's Abbot is his style ; 
For sanctity call'd, through the isle. 

The Saint of Lindisfarne. 380 



XX. 

Before them stood a guilty pair ; 
But, though an equal fate they share, 
Yet one alone deserves our care. 
Her sex a page's dress belied ; 
The cloak and doublet, loosely tied. 
Obscured her charms, but could not hide. 
Her cap down o'er her face she drew ; 
And, on her doublet breast. 



Canto II. J THE CONVENT 59 

She tried to hide the badge of blue. 

Lord Marmion's falcon crest. 390 

But, at the Prioress^ command, 
A monk undid the silken band 

That tied her tresses fair. 
And raised the bonnet from her head, 
And down her slender form they spread 

In ringlets rich and rare. 
Constance de Beverley they know. 
Sister profess'd of Fontevraud, 
AVhom the Church numbered with the dead, 
For broken vows, and convent fled. 400 

XXI. 

When thus her face was given to view, 
(Although so pallid was her hue. 
It did a ghastly contrast bear 
To those bright ringlets glistering fair), 
Her look composed, and steady eye, 
* Bespoke a matchless constancy ; 

And there she stood so calm and pale. 

That, but her breathing did not fail. 

And motion slight of eye and head. 

And of her bosom, warranted 410 

That neither sense nor pulse she lacks. 

You might have thought a form of wax, 

Wrought to the very life, was there ; 

So still she was, so pale, so fair. 

XXII. 

Her comrade was a sordid soul. 

Such as does murder for a meed ; 
Who, but of fear, knows no control, 
Because his conscience, sear'd and foul. 

Feels not the import of his deed ; 
One whose brute-feeling ne'er aspires 420 

Beyond his own more brute desires. 



60 MARMION [Canto II. j 

Such tools the Tempter ever needs, ^ 
To do the savagest of deeds ; 

For them no vision 'd terrors daunt, ' 
Their nights no fancied spectres haunt, 

One fear with them, of all most base, i 

The fear of death, — alone finds place. j 

This wretch was clad in frock and cowl, ] 

And shamed not loud to moan and howl, j 

His body on the floor to dash, 430 j 

And crouch, like hound beneath the lash ; ■ 

While'his mute partner, standing near, ^ 

Waited her doom without a tear. j 

XXIII. 

Yet well the luckless wretch might shriek. 
Well might her paleness terror speak ! 
For there were seen in that dark wall 
Two niches, narrow, deep, and tall ; — 

Who enters at such grisly door ' 1 

Shall ne'er, I ween, find exit more. \ 

In each a slender meal was laid, 440 1 

Of roots, of water, and of bread : ; 

By each, in Benedictine dress, j 

Two haggard monks stood motionless ; j 

Who, holding high a blazing torch, 1 

Show'd the grim entrance of the porch : I 

Eeflecting back the smoky beam, : 

The dark-red walls and arches gleam. > 

Hewn stones and cement were display'd, ! 

And building tools in order laid. ' 

XXIV. 

These executioners were chose *450 

As men who were with mankind foes. 

And, Avith despite and envy fired, \ 
Into the cloister had retired : 



Canto II.] THE CONVENT 61 

Or who, in desperate doubt of grace. 

Strove, by deep penance, to efface 
Of some foul crime the stain ; 

For, as the vassals of her will. 

Such men the Church selected still. 

As either joy'd in doing ill. 

Or thought more grace to gain 460 

If, iu her cause, they wrestled down 
Feelings their nature strove to own. 
By strange device were they brought there. 
They knew not how, and knew not where. 



XXV. 

And now that blind old Abbot rose. 

To speak the Chapter's doom 
On those the wall was to enclose. 

Alive, within the tomb ; 
But stopped, because that woeful maid. 
Gathering her powers, to speak essayM. 470 

Twice she essayM, and twice in vain ; 
Her accents might no utterance gain ; 
Nought but imperfect murmurs slip 
From her convulsed and quivering lip ; 

^Twixt each attempt all was so still. 

You seemM to hear a distant rill — 
^Twas ocean's swells and falls ; 

For though this vault of sin and fear 

Was to the sounding surge so near, 

A tempest there you scarce could hear, 480 

So massive were the walls. 



XXVI. 

At length, an effort sent apart 

The blood that curdled to her heart, 



62 MARMION [Canto 11. 

And light came to her eye. 
And colour dawn'd upon her cheek, 
A hectic and a fluttered streak. 
Like that left on the Cheviot peak. 

By Autumn^s stormy sky ; 
And when her silence broke at length. 
Still as she spoke she gathered strength, 490 

And arm'd herself to bear. 
It was a fearful sight to see 
Such high resolve and constancy. 

In form so soft and fair. 



XXVII. 

" I speak not to implore your grace ; 
Well know I, for one minute^s space 

Successless might I sue : 
Nor do I speak your prayers to gain ; 
For if a death of lingering pain 
To cleanse my sins be penance vain, 500 

Vain are your masses too. — 
I listened to a traitor's tale, 
I left the convent and the veil ; 
For three long years I bow'd my pride, 
A horse-boy in his train to ride ; 
And well my folly's meed he gave, 
Who forfeited, to be his slave. 
All here, and all beyond the grave. 
He saw young Clara's face more fair, 
He knew her of broad lands the heir, 510 

Forgot his vows, his faith forswore. 
And Constance was beloved no more. 

'Tis an old tale, and often told ; 
But did my fate and wish agree. 

Ne'er had been read, in story old. 

Of maiden true betray'd for gold. 

That loved, or was avenged, like me ! 



Canto II.j TUE CONVENT 63 

XXVIII. 

" The King approved his favourite's aim ; 
In vain a rival barr'd his cUiim, 

Whose faith with Clare's was plight, 520 

For he attaints that rival's fame 
With treason's charge — and on they came. 

In mortal lists to fight. 
Tlieir oaths are said. 
Their prayers are pray'd. 
Their lances in the rest are laid. 

They meet in mortal shock ; 
And hark ! the throng, with thundering cry, 
Shout ' Marmion, Marmion ! to the sky, 

De Wilton to the block ! ' 530 

Say ye, who preach Heaven shall decide 
When in the lists two champions ride. 

Say, was Heaven's justice here ? 
When, loyal in his love and faith, 
Wilton found overthrow or death 

Beneath a traitor's spear ? 
How false the charge, how true he fell, 
■ This guilty packet best can tell/' — 
Then-drew a packet from her breast. 
Paused, gather'd voice, and spoke the rest. 540 

XXIX. 

" Still was false Marmion's bridal stay'd ; 
To Whitby's convent fled the maid. 

The hated match to shun. 
' Ho ! shifts she thus ? ' King Henry cried, 
^ Sir Marmion, she shall be thy bride. 

If she were sworn a nun.' 
One way remain'd — the King's command 
Sent Marmion to the Scottish land ; 
I linger'd here, and rescue plann'd 

For Clara and for me : 550 



64 MARMION [Canto 11. 

This caitiff monk for gold did swear 
He would to Whitby's shrine repair. 
And, by his drugs, my rival fair 

A saint in heaven should be. 
But ill the dastard kept his oath. 
Whose cowardice has undone us both. 

XXX. 

'^ And now my tongue the secret tells. 

Not that remorse my bosom swells. 

But to assure my soul that none 

Shall ever wed with Marmion. 560 

Had fortune my last hope betray'd. 

This packet, to the King conveyed. 

Had given him to the headsman's stroke, 

Although my heart that instant broke. — 

Now, men of death, work forth your will. 

For I can suffer, and be still ; 

And come he slow, or come he fast, 

It is but Death who comes at last. 

XXXI. 

'' Yet dread me from my living tomb. 

Ye vassal slaves of bloody Rome ! 570 

If Marmion's late remorse should wake, 

Full soon such vengeance will he take 

That you shall wish the fiery Dane 

Had rather been your guest again. 

Behind, a darker hour ascends ! 

The altars quake, the crosier bends, 

The ire of a despotic King 

Rides forth upon destruction's wing ; 

Then shall these vaults, so strong and deep, 

Burst open to the sea-winds' sweep ; • 508 

Some traveller then shall find my bones 

Whitening amid disjointed stones, 



Canto II. J THE COJVVJSNT • 65 

And, ignorant of priests' cruelty. 
Marvel such relics here should be." 



XXXII. 

Fix^'d was her look, and stern her air : 

Back from her shoulders stream^ her hair ; 

The locks that wont her brow to shade 

Stared up erectly from her head ; 

Her figure seem'd to rise more high ; 

Her voice, despair's wild energy 590 

Had given a tone of prophecy. 

Appaird the astonish'd conclave sate ; 

With stupid eyes, the men of fate 

Gazed on the light inspired form. 

And listened for the avenging storm ; 

The judges felt the victim's dread ; 

No hand was moved, no word was said, 

Till thus the Abbot's doom was given, 

Kaising his sightless balls to heaven : — 

" Sister, let thy sorrows cease ; 600 

Sinful brother, part in peace ! " 

From that dire dungeon, place of doom. 

Of execution too, and tomb. 
Paced forth the judges three ; 

Sorrow it were, and shame, to tell 

The butcher-work that there befell. 

When they had glided from the cell 
Of sin and misery. 

XXXIII. 

An hundred winding steps convey 
That conclave to the upper day ; 610 

But, ere they breathed the fresher air, 
They heard the shriekings of despair. 
And many a stifled groan : 



(56 MARMION [Canto 11. 

With speed their upward way they take, 
(Such speed as age and fear can make,) 
And cross'd themselves for terror's sake, 

As hurrying, tottering on, 
Even in the vesper^s heavenly tone 
They seem'd to hear a dying groan. 
And bade the passing knell to toll 620 

For welfare of a parting soul. 
Slow o'er the midnight wave it swung, 
Northumbrian rocks in answer rung ; 
To Warkworth cell the echoes roll'd, 
His beads the wakeful hermit told ; 
The Bamborough peasant raised his head. 
But slept ere half a prayer he said ; 
So far was heard the mighty knell. 
The stag sprung up on Cheviot Fell, 
Spread his broad nostril to the wind, 630 

Listed before, aside, behind. 
Then couch'd him down beside the hind. 
And quaked among the mountain fern. 
To hear that sound, so dull and stern. 



INTKODUCTION TO CANTO THIED. 



TO WILLIAM ERSKINE, ESQ. 

Ashestiel, Ettrick Forest, 

Like April morning clouds, that pass 

With varying shadow o^er the grass. 

And imitate on field and furrow 

Life's chequered scene of joy and sorrow ; 

Like streamlet of the mountain north, 

Now in a torrent racing forth, 

Now winding slow its silver train. 

And almost slumbering on the plain ; 

Like breezes of the autumn day. 

Whose voice inconstant dies away, 10 

And ever swells again as fast. 

When the ear deems its murmur past ; 

Thus various, my romantic theme 

Flits, winds, or sinks, a morning dream. 

Yet pleased, our eye pursues the trace 

Of Light and Shade's inconstant race ; 

Pleased, views the rivulet afar. 

Weaving its maze irregular ; 

And pleased, we listen as the breeze 

Heaves its wild sigh through Autumn trees ; 20 

Then, wild as cloud, or stream, or gale. 

Flow on, flow unconfined, my Tale ! 



Need I to thee, dear Erskine, tell 
I love the license all too well. 



68 M ARM ION 

In sounds now lowly, and now strong. 

To raise the desultory song ? 

Oft, when ^mid such capricious chime. 

Some transient fit of lofty rhyme 

To thy kind judgment seemed excuse 

For many an error of the muse, 30 

Oft hast thou said, '' If, still misspent. 

Thine hours to poetry are lent. 

Go, and to tame thy wandering course. 

Quaff from the fountain at the source ; 

Approach those masters, o'er whose tomb 

Immortal laurels ever bloom : 

Instructive of the feebler bard. 

Still from the grave their voice is heard ; 

From them, and from the paths they showed. 

Choose honour'd guide and practised road ; 40 

Nor ramble on through brake and maze. 

With harpers rude of barbarous days. 



'*^ Or deem'st thou not our later time 
Yields topic meet for classic rhyme ? 
Hast thou no elegiac verse 
For Brunswick's venerable hearse ? 
What ! not a line, a tear, a sigh. 
When valour bleeds for liberty ? — 
Oh, hero of that glorious time. 

When, with unrivall'd light sublime, — 50 

Though martial Austria, and though all 
The might of Russia, and the Gaul, 
Though banded Europe stood her foes — 
The star of Brandenburg arose ! 
Thou couldst not live to see her beam 
For ever quench'd in Jena's stream. 
Lamented Chief !— it was not given 
To thee to change the doom of Heaven, 
And crush that dragon in its birth. 
Predestined scourge of guilty earth. 60 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO THIRD 69 

Lamented Chief I — not thine the power 

To save in that presumptuous hour. 

When Prussia hurried to the field. 

And snatchM the spear, but left the shield ! 

Valour and skill ^twas thine to try. 

And, tried in vain, 'twas thine to die. 

Ill had it seem'd thy silver hair 

The last, the bitterest pang to share. 

For princedoms reft, and scutcheons riven. 

And birthrights to usurpers given ; 70 

Thy land^s, thy children's wrongs to feel. 

And witness woes thou could'st not heal ! 

On thee relenting Heaven bestows 

For honoured life an honoured close ; 

And when revolves, in time's sure change. 

The hour of Germany's revenge, 

When, breathing fury for her sake, 

Some new Arminius shall awake, 

Her champion, ere he strike, shall come 

To whet his sword on Brun^swick's tomb. 80 



" Or of the Red-Cross hero teach, 
Dauntless in dungeon as on breach : 
Alike to him the sea, the shore, 
The brand, the bridle, or the oar : 
Alike to him the war that calls 
Its votaries to the shattered walls, 
AVhich the grim Turk, besmear'd with blood, 
Against the Invincible made good ; 
Or that whose thundering voice could wake 
The silence of the polar lake, 90 

When stubborn Russ and metal'd Swede 
On the warp'd wave their death-game play'd ; 
Or that where Vengeance and Affright 
Howl'd round the father of the fight, 
Who snatch'd, on Alexandria's sand, 
The conqueror's wreath with dying hand. 



70 MARMION 

" Or, if to toucli such cliord be thine. 
Restore the ancient tragic line. 
And emulate the notes that rung 
From the wild harp, which silent hung 100 

By silver Avon's holy shore 
Till twice an hundred years rolFd o'er; 
When she, the bold Enchantress, came. 
With fearless hand and heart on flame ! 
From the pale willow snatch'd the treasure. 
And swept it with a kindred measure. 
Till Avon's swans, while rung the grove 
With Montfort's hate and Basil's love. 
Awakening at the inspired strain, 
Deem'd their own Shakespeare lived again." 110 



Thy friendship thus thy judgment wronging. 
With praises not to me belonging, 
In task more meet for mightiest powers 
Wouldst thou engage my thriftless hours. 
But say, my Erskine, hast thou weigh'd 
That secret power by all obey'd. 
Which warps not less the passive mind. 
Its source conceal'd or undefined ; 
Whether an impulse, that has birth 
Soon as the infant wakes on earth, 120 

One with our feelings and our j)owers. 
And rather part of us than ours ; 
Or whether fitlier term'd the sway 
Of habit, form'd in early day ? 
Howe'er derived, its force confessed 
Rules with despotic sway the breast. 
And drags us on by viewless chain. 
While taste and reason plead in vain. 
Look east, and ask the Belgian why, 
Beneath Batavia's sultry sky, 130 

He seeks not eager to inhale 
The freshness of the mountain gale. 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO THIRD 71 

Content to rear his whiten'd wall 

Beside the dank and dull canal ? 

He'll say, from youth he loved to see 

The white sail gliding by the tree. 

Or see yon weatherbeaten hind. 

Whose sluggish herds before him wind. 

Whose tatter'd plaid and rugged cheek 

His northern clime and kindred speak ; 140 

Through England's laughing meads he goes, 

And England's wealth around him flows ; 

Ask if it would content him well. 

At ease in those gay plains to dwell. 

Where hedge-rows spread a verdant screen, 

And spires and forests intervene. 

And the neat cottage peeps between ? 

No ! not for these will he exchange 

His dark Lochaber's boundless range ; 

Not for fair Devon's meads forsake 150 

Ben Nevis grey, and Garry's lake. 

Thus while I ape the measure wild 
Of tales that charm'd me yet a child, 
Rude though they be, still with the chime 
Return the thoughts of early time ; 
And feelings, roused in life's first day, 
Glow in the line, and prompt the lay. 
Then rise those crags, that mountain tower 
Which charm'd my fancy's wakening hour. 
Though no broad river sw^ept along, 160 

To claim, perchance, heroic song ; 
Though sigh'd no groves in summer gale. 
To prompt of love a softer tale ; 
Though scarce a puny streamlet's speed 
Claim'd homage from a shepherd's reed ; 
Yet was poetic impulse given 
By the green hill and clear blue heaven. 
It was a barren scene, and wild. 
Where naked cliffs were rudely piled ; 



72 MARMION 

But ever and anon between 170 

Lay velvet tufts of loveliest green ; 

And well the lonely infant knew 

Recesses where the wall-flower grew. 

And honey-suckle loved to crawl 

Up* the low crag and ruin'd wall. 

I deemed such nooks the sweetest shade 

The sun in all its round surveyed ; 

And still I thought that shattered tower 

The mightiest work of human power ; 

And marveird as the aged hind 180 

With some strange tale bewitch'd my mind, 

Of forayers, Avho, with headlong force, 

Down from that strength had spurr'd their horse, 

Their southern rapine to renew 

Far in the distant Cheviots blue. 

And, home returning, fill'd the hall 

AVith revel, wassel-rout, and brawl. 

Methought that still with trump and clang 

The gateway's broken arches rang ; 

Methought grim features, seam'd with scars, 190 

Glared through the window's rusty bars. 

And ever, by the winter hearth. 

Old tales I heard of woe or mirth. 

Of lovers' sleights, of ladies' charms. 

Of witclies' spells, of warriors' arms ; 

Of patriot battles, won of old 

By Wallace wight and Bruce the bold ; 

Of later fields of feud and fight. 

When, pouring from their Highland height. 

The Scottish clans, in headlong sway, 200 

Had swept the scarlet ranks away. 

While stretch'd at length upon the floor. 

Again I fought each combat o'er. 

Pebbles and shells, in order laid, 

The mimic ranks of war display'd ; 

And onward still the Scottish Lion bore, 

And still the scattered Southron fled before. 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO THIRD 73 

Still, with vain fondness, could I trace 
Anew each kind familiar face 

That brighten^ at our evening fire ; 210 

From the thatch'd mansion's grey-hair'd Sire, 
Wise without learning, plain and good, 
And sprung of Scotland's gentler blood ; 
Whose eye in age, quick, clear, and keen, 
Show'd what in youth its glance had been ; 
Whose doom discording neighbours sought. 
Content with equity unbought ; 
To him the venerable Priest, 
Our frequent and familiar guest, 
Wliose life and manners well could paint 220 

Alike the student and the saint ; 
Alas ! whose speech too oft I broke 
With gambol rude and timeless joke : 
For I was wayward, bold, and wild, 
A self-wiird imp, a grandame's child ; 
But half a plague, and half a jest. 
Was still endured, beloved, caress'd. 



. From me, thus nurtured, dost thou ask 

The classic poet's well-conn'd task ? 

Nay, Erskine, nay — on the wild hill 230 

Let the wild heath-bell flourish still ; 

Cherish the tulip, prune the vine. 

But freely let the woodbine twine. 

And leave untrimm'd the eglantine : 

Nay, my friend, nay — since oft thy praise 

Hath given fresh vigour to my lays, 

Since oft thy judgment could refine 

My flattened thought, or cumbrous line. 

Still kind, as is thy wont, attend,- 

And in the minstrel spare the friend. 240 

Though wild as cloud, as stream, as gale. 

Flow forth, flow unrestrain'd, my Tale ! 



CANTO THIKD. 

THE HOSTEL, OR INK 

I. 

The livelong day Lord Marmion rode : 

The mountain path the Palmer showed 

By glen and streamlet winded still, 

Where stunted birches hid the rill. 

They might not choose the lowland road. 

For the Merse forayers were abroad. 

Who, fired with hate and thirst of prey. 

Had scarcely fail'd to bar their way. 

Oft on the trampling band, from crown 

Of some tall cliff, the deer looked down ; 10 

On wing of jet, from his repose 

In the deep heath, the black-cock rose ; 

Sprung from the gorse the timid roe, 

Nor waited for the bending bow ; 

And when the stony path began. 

By which the naked peak they wan. 

Up flew the snowy ptarmigan. 

The noon had long been pass'd before 

They gain'd the height of Lammermoor ; 

Thence winding down the northern way, 20 

Before them, at the close of day. 

Old Gifford's towers and hamlet lay. 



II. 



No summons calls them to the tower, 
To spend the hospitable hour. 



Canto III.] THE HOSTEL 75 

To Scotland's camp the lord was gone ; 

His cautious dame, in bower alone. 

Dreaded her castle to unclose. 

So late, to unknown friends or foes. 
On through the hamlet as they paced. 
Before a porch, whose front was graced 30 

With bush and flagon trimly placed. 

Lord Marmion drew his rein : 
The village inn seem'd large, though rude ; 
Its cheerful fire and hearty food 
Might well relieve his train. 

Down from their seats the horsemen sprung, 

With jingling spurs the court-yard rung ; 

They bind their horses to the stall. 

For forage, food, and firing call. 

And various clamour fills the hall : 40 

Weighing the labour with the cost. 

Toils everywhere the bustling host. 



III. 

Soon, by the chimney's merry blaze. 
Through the rude hostel might you gaze ; 
Might see where, in dark nook aloof. 
The rafters of the sooty roof 

Bore wealth of wnnter cheer ; 
Of sea-fowl dried, and solands store. 
And gammons of the tusky boar. 

And savoury haunch of deer. 50 

The chimney arch projected wide ; 
Above, around it, and beside. 

Were tools for housewives' hand ; 
Nor wanted, in that martial day. 
The implements of Scottish fray. 

The buckler, lance, and brand. 
Beneath its shade, the place of state. 
On oaken settle Marmion sate. 



76 MARMION [Canto III. 

And view'cl, around the blazing hearth. 

His followers mix in noisy mirth ; 60 

Whom with brown ale, in jolly tide. 

From ancient vessels ranged aside. 

Full actively their host supplied. 



IV. 

Theirs was the glee of martial breast. 

And laughter theirs at little jest ; 

And oft Lord Marmion deign'd to aid. 

And mingle in the mirth they made ; 

For though, with men of high degree. 

The proudest of the proud was he, 

Yet, trained in camps, he knew the art 70 

To win the soldier's hardy heart. 

They love a captain to obey, 

Boisterous as March, yet fresh as May ; 

With open hand, and brow as free, 

Lover of wine and minstrelsy ; 

Ever the first to scale a tower, 

As venturous in a lady's bower : — 

Such buxom chief shall lead his host 

From India's fires to Zembla's frost. 



V. 

Resting upon his pilgrim staff, 80 

Right opposite the Palmer stood ; 
His thin dark visage seen but half. 

Half hidden by his hood. 
Still fix'd on Marmion was his look. 
Which he, who ill such gaze could brook. 

Strove by a frown to quell ; 
But not for that, though more than once 
Full met their stern encountering glance, 

The Palmer's visage fell. 



Canto III.] THE HOSTEL 77 

VI. 

By fits less frequent from the crowd 90 

Was heard the burst of laughter loud ; 
For still, as squire and archer stared 
On that dark face and matted beard, 

Their glee and game declined. 
All gazed at length in silence drear, 
Unbroke, save when in comrade's ear 
Some yeoman, wondering in his fear. 

Thus whisper'd forth his mind : — 
" Saint Mary ! saw'st thou e'er such sight ? 
How pale his cheek, his eye how bright, 100 

Whene'er the firebrand's fickle light 

Glances beneath his cowl ! 
Full on our Lord he sets his eye ; 
For his best palfrey would not I 

Endure that sullen scowl." 



VII. 

But Marmion, as to chase the awe 

Which thus had quell'd their hearts, who saw 

The ever-varying fire-light show 

That figure stern and face of woe, 

Now call'd upon a squire :— HO 

'' Fitz-Eustace, know'st thou not some lay. 
To speed the lingering night away ? 

We slumber by the fire." — 

VIII. 

" So please you," thus the youth rejoin'd, 
" Our choicest minstrel's left behind. 
Ill may we hope to please your ear, 
Accustom'd Constant's strains to hear. 
The harp full deftly can he strike. 
And wake the lover's lute alike ; 



78 MARMION [Canto 111. 

To dear Saint Valentine no thrush 120 

Sings livelier from a spring-tide bush. 

No niglitingale her love-lorn tune 

More sweetly warbles to the moon. 

Woe to the cause, whatever it be. 

Detains from us his melody, 

Lavished on rocks, and billows stern. 

Or duller monks of Lindisfarne. 

Now must I venture as I may. 

To sing his favourite roundelay.'' 

IX. 

A mellow voice Fitz-Eustace had, 130 

The air he chose was wild and sad ; 

Such have I heard, in Scottish land, 

Kise from the busy harvest band. 

When falls before the mountaineer, 

On lowland plains, the ripen'd ear. 

Now one shrill voice the notes prolong, 

Now a wild chorus swells the song : 

Oft have I listen'd, and stood still. 

As it came soften'd up the hill. 

And deem'd it the lament of men 140 

AVho languished for their native glen ; 

And thought how sad would be such sound 

On Susquehanna's swampy ground, 

Kentucky's wood-encumber'd brake. 

Or wild Ontario's boundless lake, 

Where heart-sick exiles, in the strain, 

Recall'd fair Scotland's hills again ! 

X. 

Where shall the lover rest, 

Whom the fates sever 
From his true maiden's breast, 150 

Parted for ever ? 



Canto 111. J THE HOSTEL 79 

Where, through groves deep and high, 

Sounds the far billow. 
Where early violets die. 

Under the willow. 

CHORUS. 

Eleic loro, &c. Soft shall be his pillow. 

There, through the summer day. 

Cool streams are laving ; 
There, while the tempests sway. 

Scarce are boughs waving ; IGO 

There thy rest shalt thou take. 

Parted for ever, 
Never again to wake. 

Never, never ! 

CHORUS. 

Eleu loro, &c. Never, never ! 

XI. 

Where shall the traitor rest. 

He the deceiver, 
AVho could win maiden^s breast. 

Ruin, and leave her ? 
In the lost battle, 170 

Borne down by the flying. 
Where mingles war's rattle 

With groans of the dying. 

CHORUS. 

Eleu loro, &c. There shall he be lying. 

Her wing shall the eagle flap 

O'er the false-hearted ; 
His warm blood tlie Avolf shall lap. 

Ere life be parted. 



80 MARMION [Canto 111. 

Shame and dishonour sit 

By his grave ever ; 180 

Blessing shall hallow it, — 

Never, never. 

CHORUS. 

Eleu loro, &c. Never, never ! 

XII. 

It ceased, the melancholy sound ; 
And silence sunk on all around. 
The air was sad ; but sadder still 

It fell on Marmion^s ear. 
And plain'd as if disgrace and ill, 

And shameful death, were near. 
He drew his mantle past his face, 190 

Between it and the band, 
And rested with his head a space 

Reclining on his hand. 
His thoughts I scan not ; but I ween 
That, could their import have been seen. 
The meanest groom in all the hall, 
That e'er tied courser to a stall, 
Would scarce have wished to be their prey. 
For Lutterward and Fontenaye. 

XIII. 

High minds, of native pride and force, 200 

Most deeply feel thy pangs, Eemorse ! 

Fear, for their scourge, mean villains have. 

Thou art the torturer of the brave ! 

Yet fatal strength they boast to steel 

Their minds to bear the wounds they feel. 

Even while they writhe beneath the smart 

Of civil conflict in the heart. 

For soon Lord Marmion raised his head. 

And, smiling, to Fitz-Eustace said, — 



Canto III.] THE HOSTEL 81 

^^Is it not strange that, as ye sung, 210 

Seemed in mine ear a death-peal rung, 
Such as in nunneries they toll 
For some departing sister^s soul ? 

Say, what may this portend ? " — 
Then first the Palmer silence broke, 
(The livelong day he had not spoke,) 

" The death of a dear friend." 



XIV. 

Marmion, whose steady heart and eye 

Ne^er changed in worst extremity ; 

Marmion, whose soul could scantly brook, 220 

Even from his King, a haughty look ; 

Whose accents of command controird. 

In camps, the boldest of the bold — 

Thought, look, and utterance fail'd him now. 

Fallal was his glance, and flushed his brow : 

For either in the tone, , 

Or something in the Palmer's look, 
So full upon his conscience strook. 

That answer he found none. 
Thus oft it haps that when within 230 

They shrink at sense of secret sin, 

A feather daunts the brave ; 
A fooFs wild speech confounds the wise. 
And proudest princes vail their e3'es 

Before their meanest slave. 



XV. 

Well might he falter ! — By his aid 

Was Constance Beverley betray'd. 

Not that he augur'd of the doom 

Which on the living closed the tomb : 

But, tired to hear the desperate maid 240 

Threaten by turns, beseech, upbraid ; 



82 MABMION [Canto III. 

And wroth because, in wild despair. 

She practised on the life of Clare ; 

Its fugitive the Cliurch he gave, 

Though not a victim, but a slave ; 

And deemed restraint in convent strange 

AVould hide her wrongs, and her revenge. 

Himself, proud Henry's favourite peer. 

Held Eomish thunders idle fear, 

Secure his pardon he might hold 250 

For some slight mulct of penance-gold. 

Thus judging, he gave secret way, 

When the stern priests surprised their prey. 

His train but deem'd the favourite page 

Was left behind, to spare his age ; 

Or other if they deemM, none dared 

To mutter what he thought and heard : 

Woe to the vassal, wdio durst pry 

Into Lord Marmion's privacy ! 



XVI. 

His conscience slept — he deemM her well, 260 

And safe secured in yonder cell ; i 

But, waken'd by her favourite lay. 

And that strange Palmer's boding say. 

That fell so ominous and drear 

Full on the object of his fear, ; 

To aid remorse's venom'd throes. 

Dark tales of convent-vengeance rose ; 

And Constance, late betray'd and scorn'd, | 

All lovely on his soul returnM ; j 

Lovely as when, at treacherous call, 270 

She left her convent's peaceful wall, 

Crimson'd with shame, with terror mute. 

Dreading alike escape, pursuit. 

Till love, victorious o'er alarms, ■ 

Hid fears and blushes in his arms. 



Canto lll.j THE HOSTEL 83 

XVII. 

" Alas ! '' he thought, " how changed that mien ! 

How changed these timid looks have been. 

Since years of guilt and of disguise 

Have steeFd her brow, and arm'd her eyes ! 

No more of virgin terror speaks 280 

The blood that mantles in her cheeks ; 

Fierce and unfeminine are there 

Frenzy for joy, for grief despair ; 

And I the cause — for whom were given 

Her peace on earth, her hopes in heaven ! — 

Would," thought he, as the picture grows, 

^' I on its stalk had left the rose ! 

0, why should man^s success remove 

The very charms that wake his love ! — 

Her convent's peaceful solitude 290 

Is now a prison harsh and rude ; 

And, pent within the narrow cell. 

How will her spirit chafe and swell ! ' 

How brook the stern monastic laws ! 

The penance how — and I the cause ! — 

Vigil, and scourge — perchance even worse ! " — 

And twice he rose to cry, '^ To horse ! '' 

And twice his sovereign's mandate came, 

Like damp upon a kindling flame ; 

And twice he thought, " Gave I not charge 300 

She should be safe, though not at large ? 

They durst not, for their island, shred 

One golden ringlet from her head/' 

XVIII. 

While thus in Marmion's bosom strove 

Repentance and reviving love. 

Like whirlwinds, whose contending sway 

Fve seen Loch Vennachar obey. 

Their host the Palmer's speech had heard. 

And, talkative, took up the word : 



84 MARMION [Canto III. 

^'Ay, reverend Pilgrim, you who stray 310 

From Scotland's simple land away, 

To visit realms afar, 
Full often learn the art to know 
Of future weal, or future woe. 

By word, or sign, or star ; 
Yet might a knight his fortune hear, 
If, knight-like, he despises fear, 
Not far from hence ; — if fathers old 
Aright our hamlet legend told." — 
These broken words the menials move, 320 

(For marvels still the vulgar love,) 
And Marmion giving license cold. 
His tale the host thus gladly told :— 



XIX. 

V^t fosl's fak 

" A Clerk could tell what years have flown 
Since Alexander filFd our throne, 
(Third monarch of that warlike name,) 



And eke the time when here he came ( 

To seek Sir Hugo, then our lord : 

A braver never drew a sword ; 

A wiser never, at the hour 330 

Of midnight, spoke the word of power : , 

The same whom ancient records call ; 

The founder of the Goblin-Hall. j 

I would. Sir Knight, your longer stay j 

Gave you that cavern to survey. i 

Of lofty roof, and ample size. 

Beneath the castle deep it lies : 

To hew the living rock profound, . \ 

The floor to pave, the arch to round, j 

There never toiFd a mortal arm, 340 j 

It all was wrought by word and charm ; j 



Canto III.] THE HOSTEL 85 

And I have heard my grandsire say- 
That the wild clamour and affray 
Of those dread artisans of hell, 
Who laboured under Hugo^s spell. 
Sounded as loud as ocean's war, 
Among the caverns of Dunbar. 



XX. 

'* The King Lord Gifford's castle sought. 

Deep labouring with uncertain thought ; 

Even then he mustered all his host, 350 

To meet upon the western coast ; 

For N"orse and Danish galleys plied 

Their oars within the Frith of Clyde. 

There floated Haco's banner trim. 

Above ]S"orweyan warriors grim. 

Savage of heart, and large of limb ; 

Threatening both continent and isle, 

Bute, Arran, Cunninghame, and Kyle. 

Lord Gifford, deep beneath the ground. 

Heard Alexander's bugle sound, 360 

And tarried not his garb to change. 

But, in his wizard habit strange. 

Came forth, — a quaint and fearful sight ; 

His mantle lined with fox-skins white ; 

His high and wrinkled forehead bore 

A pointed cap, such as of yore 

Clerks say that Pharaoh's Magi wore : 

His shoes were mark'd with cross and spell, 

Upon his breast a pentacle ; 

His zone, of virgin parchment thin, 370 

Or, as some tell, of dead man's skin. 

Bore many a planetary sign. 

Combust, and retrograde, and trine ; 

And in his hand he held prepared, 

A naked sword without a guard. 



SQ MARMION [Canto 111. 

XXL 

'^Dire dealings with the fiendish race 

Had mark'd strange lines upon his face ; 

Vigil and fast had worn him grim. 

His eyesight dazzled seemM and dim, 

As one unused to upper day ; 380 

Even his own menials with dismay 

Beheld, Sir Knight, the grisly Sire, 

In his unwonted wild attire ; 

Unwonted, for traditions run. 

He seldom thus beheld the sun. 

^ I know,"* he said, — his voice was hoarse. 

And broken seem'd its hollow force, — 

* I know the cause, although untold. 

Why the King seeks his vassaFs hold : 

Vainly from me my liege would know 390 

His kingdom's future weal or woe ; 

But yet, if strong his arm and heart. 

His courage may do more than art. 

XXII. 

" ' Of middle air the demons proud. 

Who ride upon the racking cloud. 

Can read, in fix'd or wandering star, 

The issue of events afar ; 

But still their sullen aid withhold. 

Save when by mightier force controird. 

Such late I summoned to my hall ; 400 

And though so potent was the call 

That scarce the deepest nook of hell 

I deem'd a refuge from the spell. 

Yet, obstinate in silence still. 

The haughty demon mocks my skill. 

But thou, — who little know'st thy might. 

As born upon that blessed night 

When yawning graves, and dying groan. 

Proclaim^ helFs empire overthrown, — 



Canto III.] THE HOSTEL 87 

With untaught valour shalt compel 410 

Eesponse denied to magic spell/ — 

' Gramercy/ quoth our Monarch free, 

' Place him but front to front with me. 

And, by this good and lionourM brand. 

The gift of Coeur-de-Lion^s hand, 

Soothly I swear that, tide what tide. 

The demon shall a buffet bide.' — 

His bearing bold the wizard viewM, 

And thus, well pleased, his speech renewM : — 

'^ There spoke the blood of Malcolm ! — mark : 420 

Forth pacing hence, at midnight dark. 

The rampart seek, whose circling crown 

Crests the ascent of yonder down : 

A southern entrance shalt thou find ; 

There halt, and there thy bugle wind. 

And trust thine elfin foe to see 

In guise of thy worst enemy : 

Couch then thy lance, and spur thy steed — 

Upon him ! and Saint George to speed ! 

If he go down, thou soon shalt know 430 

Whatever these airy sprites can show : — 

If thy heart fail thee in the strife, 

I am no warrant for thy life/ 

XXIII. 

^' Soon as the midnight bell did ring. 

Alone, and arniM, forth rode the King 

To that old campus deserted round : 

Sir Knight, you well might mark the mound. 

Left hand the town, — the Pictish race. 

The trench, long since, in blood did trace ; 

The moor around is brown and bare, 440 

The space within is green and fair. 

The spot our village children know. 

For there the earliest wild-flowers gvow ; 

But woe betide the wandering wight 

That treads its circle in the night ! 



88 MARMION [Canto III. • 

The breadth across, a bowshot clear, ; 

G-ives ample space for full career ; : 

Opposed to the four points of heaven, \ 

By four deep gaps are entrance given. 

The southernmost our Monarch past, 450 

Halted, and blew a gallant blast ; : 

And on the north, within the ring. 

Appeared the form of England's King, \ 

Who then, a thousand leagues afar. 

In Palestine waged holy war : \ 

Yet arms like England's did he wield. 

Alike the leopards in the shield. 

Alike his Syrian courser's frame, ■ 

The rider's length of limb the same : J 

Long afterwards did Scotland know, 460 ' 

Fell Edward was her deadliest foe. 

XXIV. 

'' The vision made our Monarch start, j 

But soon he mann'd his noble heart, I 

And in the first career they ran, :\ 

The Elfin Knight fell, horse and man ; I 

Yet did a splinter of his lance ] 

Through Alexander's visor glance, \ 

And razed the skin — a puny wound. ; 

The King, light leaping to the ground. 

With naked blade his phantom foe 470 ; 

Compell'd the future war to show. i 

Of Largs he saw the glorious plain, I 

Where still gigantic bones remain, ] 

Memorial of the Danish war ; \ 

Himself he saw, amid the field, 

On high his brandish'd war-axe wield, 

And strike proud Haco from his car, j 

While all around the shadowy kings _ \ 

Denmark's grim ravens cower'd their wings. j 

'Tis said that, in that awful night, 480 

Remoter visions met his sight, j 



Canto III.] THE HOSTEL 89 

Foreshowing future conquest far. 
When our sons' sons wage northern war ; 
A royal city, tower and spire, 
KeddenM the midnight sky with fire, 
And shouting crews her navy bore 
Triumphant to the victor shore. 
Such signs may learned clerks explain, 
They pass the wit of simple swain. 

XXV. 

^' The joyful King turned home again, 490 

Headed his host, and quelFd the Dane ; 
But yearly, when returned the night 
Of his strange combat with the sprite. 

His wound must bleed and smart ; 
Lord Gifford then would gibing say, 
* Bold as ye were, my liege, ye pay 

The penance of your start.' 
Long since, beneath Dunfermline's nave, 
King Alexander fills his grave, 

Our Lady give him rest ! 500 

Yet still the knightly spear and shield 
The Elfin Warrior doth wield. 

Upon the brown hill's breast ; 
And many a knight hath proved his chance. 
In the charm'd ring to break a lance. 

But all have foully sped ; 
Save two, as legends tell, and they 
Were Wallace wight, and Gilbert Hay. — 

Gentles, my tale is said." 

XXVI. 

The quaighs were deep, the liquor strong, 510 

And on the tale the yeoman-throng 
Had made a comment sage and long. 

But Marmion gave a sign : 
And, with their lord the squires retire ; 
The rest around the hostel fire 



90 MARMION [Canto III. 

Their drowsy limbs recline : 
For pillow, underneath each head. 
The quiver and the targe were laid. 
Deep slumbering on the hostel floor. 
Oppressed with toil and ale, they snore : 520 

The dying flame, in fitful change. 
Threw on the group its shadows strange. 

XXVII. 

Apart, and nestling in the hay 

Of a waste loft, Fitz-Eustace lay ; 

Scarce, by the pale moonlight, were seen 

The foldings of his mantle green : 

Lightly he dreamt, as youth will dream, 

Of sport by thicket, or by stream. 

Of hawk or hound, of ring or glove, 

Or, lighter yet, of lady^s love. 530 

A cautious tread his slumber broke, 

And, close beside him when he woke, 

In moonbeam half, and half in gloom. 

Stood a tall form, with nodding plume ; 

But, ere his dagger Eustace drew. 

His master Marmion's voice he knew. 

XXVIII. 

— '^ Fitz-Eustace ! rise, — I cannot rest ; 

Yon churFs wild legend haunts my breast, 

And graver thoughts have chafed my mood : 

The air must cool my feverish blood ; 540 

And fain would I ride forth, to see 

The scene of elfin chivalry. 

Arise, and saddle me my steed ; 

And, gentle Eustace, take good heed 

Thou dost not rouse these drowsy slaves ; 

I would not that the prating knaves 

Had cause for saying, o^'er their ale. 

That I could credit such a tale," — - 



Canto III.] THE HOSTEL 91 

Then softly down the steps they slid, 

Eustace the stable door undid, 550 

And, darkling, Marmion's steed arrayed. 

While, whispering, thus the Baron said : — 



XXIX. 

" Did'st never, good my youth, hear tell. 

That on the hour Avhen I was born. 
Saint George, who graced my sire's chapelle, 
Down from his steed of marble fell, 

A weary wight forlorn ? 
The flattering chaplains all agree 
The champion left his steed to me. 
I would, the omen's truth to show, 560 

That I could meet this Elfin Foe ! 
Blithe would I battle, for the right 
To ask one question at the sprite : — 
Vain thought ! for elves, if elves there be. 
An empty race, by fount or sea, 
To dashing waters dance and sing, 
Or round the green oak wheel their ring." 
Thus speaking, he his steed bestrode. 
And from the hostel slowly rode. 



XXX. 

Fitz-Eustace followed him abroad, 570 

And mark'd him pace the village road. 

And listened to his horse's tramp. 
Till, by the lessening sound. 

He judged that of the Pictish camp 
Lord Marmion sought the round. 
Wonder it seem'd, in the squire's eyes. 
That one, so wary held and wise, — 
Of whom 'twas said, he scarce received 
For gospel, what the Church believed, — 

Should, stirr'd by idle tale, 580 



92 MARMION [Canto III. 

Kide forth in silence of the night. 
As hoping half to meet a sprite, 

Array'd in plate and mail. 
For little did Fitz-Eustace know 
That passions in contending flow 

Unfix the strongest mind ; 
Wearied from doubt to doubt to flee, 
We welcome fond credulity. 

Guide confident, though blind. 

XXXI. 

Little for this Fitz-Eustace cared, 590 

But, patient, waited till he heard. 
At distance, prick'd to utmost speed. 
The foot-tramp of a flying steed 

Come town-ward rushing on ; 
First, dead, as if on turf it trode. 
Then, clattering on the village road, — 
In other pace than forth he yode. 

Returned Lord Marmion. 
Down hastily he sprung from selle. 
And, in his haste, wellnigh he fell ; 600 

To the squire's hand the rein he threw. 
And spoke no word as he withdrew : 
But yet the moonlight did betray, 
The falcon-crest was soil'd with clay ; 
And plainly might Fitz-Eustace see, 
By stains upon the charger's knee 
And his left side, that on the moor 
He had not kept his footing sure. 
Long musing on these wondrous signs. 
At length to rest the squire reclines, 610 

Broken and short ; for still between 
Would dreams of terror intervene : 
Eustace did ne'er so blithely mark 
The first notes of the morning lark. 



INTEODUCTION TO CANTO FOUETH. 



TO JAMES SKENE, ESQ. 

• Ashestiel, Ettrick Forest. 

Ax ancient Minstrel sagely said, 

'' AVhere is the life which late we led ? " 

That motley clown in Arden wood, 

Whom humorous Jacques with envy view'd, 

Not even that clown could amplify. 

On this trite text, so long as I. 

Eleven years we now may tell 

Since we have known each other well ; 

Since, riding side by side, our hand 

First drew the voluntary brand ; lo 

And sure, through many a varied scene, 

Unkindness never came between. 

Away these winged years have flown, 

To join the mass of ages gone ; 

And though deep mark'd, like all below. 

With chequered shades of joy and woe ; 

Though thou o'er realms and seas hast ranged, 

Mark'd cities lost, and empires changed, 

While here at home my narrower ken 

Somewhat of manners saw, and men ; 20 

Though varying wishes, hopes, and fears. 

Fevered the progress of these years. 

Yet now, days, weeks, and months but seem 

The recollection of a dream. 

So still we glide down to the sea 

Of fathomless eternity. 



94 MARMION 

Even now it scarcely seems a day, 
Since first I tuned this idle lay ; 
A task so often thrown aside, 

When leisure graver cares denied, 30 

That now November's dreary gale, 
AVhose voice inspired my opening tale. 
That same November gale once more 
Whirls the dry leaves on Yarrow shore. 
Their vex'd boughs streaming to the sky. 
Once more our naked birches sigh. 
And Blackhouse heights, and Ettrick Pen, 
Have donn'd their wintry shrouds again ; 
And mountain dark, and flooded mead. 
Bid us forsake the banks of Tweed. 40 

Earlier than wont along the sky, 
Mix'd with the rack, the snow mists fly ; 
The shepherd who, in summer sun. 
Had something of our envy won. 
As thou with pencil, I with pen. 
The features traced of hill and glen ; — 
He who, outstretched the livelong day. 
At ease among the heath-flowers lay, 
View'd the light clouds with vacant look, 
Or slumber'd o'er his tatter'd book, 50 

Or idly busied him to guide 
His angle o'er the lessen'd tide ; — 
At midnight now, the snowy plain 
Finds sterner labour for the swain. 



When red hath set the beamless sun. 
Through heavy vapours dank and dun ; 
When the tired ploughman, dry and warm, 
Hears, half asleep, the rising storm 
Hurling the hail, and sleeted rain, 
Against the casement's tinkling pane ; 60 

The sounds that drive wild deer, and fox. 
To shelter in the brake and rocks. 



tNTRODtfCfiON TO CANTO FOURTH 95 

Are warnings which the shepherd ask 

To dismal and to dangerous task. 

Oft he looks forth, and hopes, in vain, 

The blast may sink in mellowing rain ; 

Till, dark above, and white below. 

Decided drives the flaky snow. 

And forth the hardy swain must go. 

Long, with dejected look and whine, 70 

To leave the hearth his dogs repine ; 

Whistling and cheering them to aid. 

Around his back he wreathes the plaid : 

His flock he gathers and he guides 

To open downs, and mountain-sides, 

AVhere fiercest though the tempest blow. 

Least deeply lies the drift below. 

The blast that whistles o'er the fells 

Stiffens his locks to icicles ; 

Oft he looks back while, streaming far, 80 

His cottage window seems a star, — 

Loses its feeble gleam, — and then 

Turns patient to the blast again. 

And, facing to the tempest's sweep. 

Drives through the gloom his lagging sheep. 

If fails his heart, if his limbs fail. 

Benumbing death is in the gale : 

His paths, his landmarks, all unknown. 

Close to the hut, no more his own. 

Close to the aid he sought in vain, 90 

The morn may find the stiffened swain : 

The widow sees, at dawning pale. 

His orphans raise their feeble wail ; 

And, close beside him in the snow. 

Poor Yarrow, partner of their woe, 

Couches upon his master's breast. 

And licks his cheek to break his rest. 

Who envies now the shepherd's lot, 
His healthy fare, his rural cot. 



96 MABMION 

His summer coucli by greenwood tree, 100 

His rustic kirn^'s loud revelry, 

His native hill-notes, tuned on high, 

To Marion of the blithesome eye ; 

His crook, his scrip, his oaten reed. 

And all Arcadia's golden creed ? 



Changes not so with us, my Skene, 
Of human life the varying scene ? 
Our youthful summer oft we see 
Dance by on wings of game and glee. 
While the dark storm reserves its rage, 110 

Against the winter of our age : 
As he, the ancient Chief of Troy, 
His manhood spent in peace and joy ; 
But Grecian fires, and loud alarms 
CalFd ancient Priam forth to arms. 
Then happy those, since each must drain 
His share of pleasure, share of pain, — 
Then happy those, beloved of Heaven, 
To whom the mingled cup is given ; 
Whose lenient sorrows find relief, 120 

Whose joys are chasten'd by their grief. 
And such a lot, my Skene, was thine, 
When thou of late wert doom'd to twine, — 
Just when thy bridal hour was by, — 
The cypress with the myrtle tie. 
Just on thy bride her Sire had smiled. 
And bless'd the union of his child. 
When love must change its joyous cheer. 
And wipe affection's filial tear. 

Nor did the actions next his end 130 

Speak more the father than the friend : 
Scarce had lamented Forbes paid 
The tribute to his Minstrel's shade. 
The tale of friendship scarce was told. 
Ere the narrator's heart was cold — 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FOURTH 97 

Far may we search, before we find 

A heart so manly and so kind ! 

But not around his honoured urn 

Shall friends alone and kindred mourn ; 

The thousand eyes his care had dried 140 

Pour at his name a bitter tide ; 

And frequent falls the grateful dew. 

For benefits the world ne'er knew. 

If mortal charity dare claim 

The Almighty's attributed name, 

Inscribe above his mouldering clay, 

"The widow's shield, the orphan's stay.'* 

Nor, though it wake thy sorrow, deem 

My verse intrudes on this sad theme ; 

For sacred was the pen that Avrote, 150 

" Thy father's friend forget thou not : " 

And grateful title may I plead. 

For many a kindly word and deed. 

To bring my tribute to his grave : — 

'Tis little— but 'tis all I have. 

To thee, perchance, this rambling strain 
Recalls our summer walks again ; 
YVlien, doing nought, — and, to speak true, 
Not anxious to find aught to do, — 
The wild unbounded hills we ranged, 160 

While oft our talk its topic changed. 
And, desultory as our way, 
Ranged unconfined from grave to gay. 
Even when it flagg'd, as oft will chance. 
No effort made to break its trance. 
We could right pleasantly pursue 
Our sports in social silence too ; 
Thou gravely labouring to portray 
The blighted oak's fantastic spray ; 
I spelling o'er, with much delight, 170 

The legend of that antique knight, 
Tirante by name, yclep'd the White. 



08 MARMION 

At eitlier's feet a trusty squire, 

Piuidour and Camp, with eyes of fire. 

Jealous, each other's motions view'd. 

And scarce suppressed their ancient feud. 

The laverock whistled from the cloud ; 

The stream was lively, but not loud ; 

From the white thorn the May-flower shed 

Its dewy fragrance round our head : 180 

Not Ariel lived more merrily 

Under the blossom'd bough, than we. 

And blithesome nights, too, have been ours. 
When AVinter stript the Summer's bowers. 
Careless we heard, what now I hear. 
The wild blast sighing deep and drear. 
When fires were bright, and lamps beani'd gay, 
And ladies tuned the lovely lay ; 
And he was held a laggard soul 
Who shunned to quaff the sparkling bowl. 190 

Then he whose absence we deplore. 
Who breathes the gales of Devon's shore. 
The longer miss'd, bewail'd the more ; 

And thou, and I, and dear-loved R , 

And one whose name I may not say, — 

For not ^limosa's tender tree 

Shrinks sooner from the touch than he, — 

In merry chorus well combined. 

With laughter drown'd the whistling wind. 

Mirth was within ; and Care without *200 

Might gnaw her nails to hear our shout. 

Not but amid the buxom scene 

Some grave discourse might intervene — 

Of the good horse that bore him best. 

His shoulder, hoof, and arching crest : 

For, like mad Tom's, our chiefest care, 

Was horse to ride, and weapon wear. 

Such nights we've had ; and, though the game 

Of manhood be more sober tame. 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FOURTH 99 

And though the field-day, or the drill, 210 

Seem less important now — yet still 

Such may we hope to share again. • 

The sprightly thought inspires my strain ! 

And mark how, like a horseman true, 

Lord Marmion^s march I thus renew. 



CANTO FOUKTH. j 

i 
THE GAMP. \ 

I. j 

Eustace, I said, did blithely mark ; 

The first notes of the merry lark. ] 

The lark sang shrill, the cock he crew, ; 

And loudly Marmion's bugles blew. 

And with their light and lively call j 

Brought groom and yeoman to the stall. 

Whistling they came, and free of heart. 

But soon their mood was changed ; ; 

Complaint was heard on every part 

Of something disarranged. 10 

Some clamour'd loud for armour lost ; '■ 

Some brawFd and wrangled with the host ; i 

'' By Becket's bones," cried one, '' I fear 
That some false Scot has stolen my spear ! " — 
Young Blount, Lord Marmion's second squire. 
Found his steed wet with sweat and mire ; 
Although the rated horse-boy sware. 
Last night he dressed him sleek and fair. 
While chafed the impatient squire like thunder. 
Old Hubert shouts, in fear and wonder, — 20 

" Help, gentle Blount ! help, comrades all ! j 

Bevis lies dying in his stall : i 

To Marmion who the plight dare tell i 

Of the good steed he loves so well ? " — ! 

Gaping for fear and ruth, they saw | 

The charger panting on his straw ; 



Canto IV.] THE CAMP 101 

Till one, who would seem wisest, cried, — 

'^ What else bnt evil could betide. 

With that cursed Palmer for our guide ? 

Better we had through mire and bush 30 

Been lantern-led by Friar Rush." 



II. 

Fitz-Eustace, who the cause but guessM, 

Nor wholly understood. 
His comrades" clamorous plaints suppressed ; 

He knew Lord Marmion's mood. 
Him, ere he issued forth, he sought. 
And found deep plunged in gloomy thought, 

And did his tale display 
Simply, as if he knew of nought 

To cause such disarray. 40 

Lord Marmion gave attention cold. 
Nor marvell'd at the wonders told, — 
Pass'd them as accidents of course. 
And bade his clarions sound to horse. 



III. 

Young Henry Blount, meanwhile, the cost 

Had reckoned with their Scottish host ; 

And, as the charge he cast and paid, 

" 111 thou deserv^st thy hire," he said ; 

'^ Dost see, thou knave, my horse^s plight ? 

Fairies have ridden him all the night, 50 

And left him in a foam ! 
I trust that soon a conjuring band, 
With English cross, and blazing brand. 
Shall drive the devils from this land 

To their infernal home : 
For in this haunted den, I trow. 
All night they trampled to and fro." — 



102 MARMION [Canto IV. 

The laughing host look'd on the hire, — 
^' Gramercy, gentle southern squire, 
. And if thou com^st among the rest, " 60 

With Scottish broadsword to be blest. 
Sharp be the brand, and sure the blow. 
And short the pang to undergo/^ 
Here stay'd their talk, — for Marmion 
Gave now the signal to set on. 
The Palmer showing forth the way. 
They journeyed all the morning-day. 

IV. 

The green-sward way was smooth and good. 

Through Humbie's and through Saltoun's wood ; 

A forest glade, which, varying still, 70 

Here gave a view of dale and hill. 

There narrower closed, till over head 

A vaulted screen the branches made. 

^' A pleasant path," Fitz-Eustace said ; 

" Such as where errant-knights might see 

Adventures of high chivalry ; 

Might meet some damsel flying fast. 

With hair unbound, and looks aghast ; 

And smooth and level course were here, 

In her defence to break a spear. 80 

Here, too, are twilight nooks and dells ; 

And oft in such, the story tells. 

The damsel kind, from danger freed, 

Did grateful pay her champion's meed."' 

He spoke to cheer Lord Marmion's mind ; 

Perchance to show his lore design 'd ; 

For Eustace much had pored 
Upon a huge romantic tome, 
In the hall- window of his home, 
Imprinted at the antique dome 90 

Of Caxton, or de Worde. 
Therefore he spoke, — but spoke in vain. 
For Marmion answer'd nought again. 



Canto IV.] THE CAMP 103 

V. 

Now sudden, distant trumpets shrill, 
In notes prolonged by wood and hill, 

Were heard to echo far ; 
Each ready archer graspM his bow, 
But by the flourish soon they know 

They breathed no point of war. 
Yet cautious, as in foeman^s land, 100 

Lord Marmion's order speeds the band 

Some opener ground to gain ; 
And scarce a furlong had they rode, 
AVlien thinner trees, receding, show'd 

A little woodland plain. 
Just in that advantageous glade 
The halting troop a line had made. 
As forth from the opposing shade 

Issued a gallant train. 

VI. 

First came the trumpets, at whose clang 110 

. So late the forest echoes rang ; 
On prancing steeds they forward press'd. 
With scarlet mantle, azure vest ; 
Each at his trump a banner wore. 
Which Scotland's royal scutcheon bore : 
Heralds and pursuivants, by name 
Bute, Islay, Marchmount, Rothsay, came. 
In painted tabards, proudly showing 
Gules, Argent, Or, and Azure glowing. 

Attendant on a King-at-arms, 120 

Whose hand the armorial truncheon held 
That feudal strife had often quelFd 

When wildest its alarms. 

VII. 

He was a man of middle age ; 
In aspect manly, grave, and sage. 
As on King's errand come ; 



104 MARMION [Canto IV. 

But in the glances of his eye, 
A penetrating, keen, and sly 

Expression found its home ; 
The flash of that satiric rage, 130 

Which, bursting on the early stage. 
Branded the vices of the age. 

And broke the keys of Rome. 
On milk-white palfrey forth he paced ; 
His cap of maintenance was graced 

With the proud heron-plume. 
From his steed's shoulder, loin, and breast. 

Silk housings swept the ground, 
With Scotland's arms, device, and crest. 

Embroidered round and round. 140 

The double tressure might you see, 

First by Achaius borne. 
The thistle and the fleur-de-lis. 

And gallant unicorn. 



So bright the King's armorial coat, j 

That scarce the dazzled eye could note, j 

In living colours, blazon'd brave, i 

The Lion, which his title gave ; i 

A train, which well beseem'd his state, \ 

But all unarm'd, around him wait. 150 < 

Still is thy name in high account, | 

And still thy verse has charms, ] 

Sir David Lindesay of the Mount, j 

Lord Lion King-at-arms ! j 



VIII. 

Down from his horse did Marmion spring. 
Soon as he saw the Lion-King ; 
For well the stately Baron knew 
To him such courtesy was due. 
Whom royal James himself had crown'd. 
And on his temples placed the round IGO 

Of Scotland's ancient diadem. 



Canto IV.] THE GAMP 105 

And wet his brow with hallow'd wine. 
And on his finger given to shine 

The emblematic gem. 
Their mutual greetings duly made. 
The Lion thus his message said : — 
*' Though Scotland's King hath deeply swore 
Ne'er to knit faith with Henry more. 
And strictly hath forbid resort 

From England to his royal court ; 170 

Yet, for he knows Lord Marmion's name. 
And honours much his warlike fame, 
My liege hath deem'd it shame, and lack 
Of courtesy, to turn him back ; 
And, by his order, I, your guide. 
Must lodging fit and fair provide. 
Till finds King James meet time to see 
The flower of English chivalry/' 

IX. 

Though inly chafed at this delay. 

Lord Marmion bears it as he may. 180 

The Palmer, his mysterious guide, 

Beholding thus his place supplied, 

Sought to take leave in vain : 
Strict was the Lion-King's command 
That none who rode in Mar m ion's band 

Should sever from the train : 
*' England has here enow of spies 
In Lady Heron's witching eyes : " 
To Marchmount thus apart he said. 
But fair pretext to Marmion made. 190 

The right hand path they now decline. 
And trace against the stream the Tyne. 

X. 

At length up that wild dale they wind, 
Where Crichtoun Castle crowns the bank ; 



106 MARMION [Canto IV. 

For there the Lion^s care assigned 

A lodging meet for Marmion's rank. 
That castle rises on the steep 

Of the green vale of Tyne ; 
And far beneath, where slow they creep 
From pool to eddy, dark and deep, 200 

Where alders moist and willows weep. 

You hear her streams repine. 
The towers in diH erent ages rose ; 
Their various architecture shows 

The builders' various hands ; 
A mighty mass, that could oppose. 
When deadliest hatred fired its foes. 

The vengeful Douglas bands. 

XL 

Crichtoun ! though now thy miry court 

But pens the lazy steer and sheep, 210 

Thy turrets rude, and totter'd keep 
Have been the minstreFs loved resort. 
Oft have I traced, within thy fort. 

Of mouldering shields the mystic sense. 

Scutcheons of honour or pretence, 
Quartered in old armorial sort. 

Remains of rude magnificence. 
Nor wholly yet hath time defaced 

Thy lordly gallery fair ; 
Nor yet the stony cord unbraced, 220 

Whose twisted knots, with roses laced, 

Adorn thy ruined stair. 
Still rises unimpaired below 
The court-yard^s graceful portico ; 
Above its cornice, row and row 
Of fair hewn facets richly show 

Their pointed diamond form, 
Though there but houseless cattle go. 

To shield them from the storm. 



Canto IV.] THE GAMP 107 

And, shuddering, still may we explore, 230 

Where oft whilom were captives pent, 

The darkness of thy Massy More ; 
Or, from thy grass-grown battlement, 

May trace, in undulating line. 

The sluggish mazes of the Tyne. 

XII. 

Another aspect Crichtoun showed. 

As through its portal Marmion rode ; 

But yet 'twas melancholy state 

Received him at the outer gate ; 

For none were in the castle then 240 

But women, boys, or aged men. 

With eyes scarce dried, the sorrowing dame 

To welcome noble Marmion came ; 

Her son, a stripling twelve years old, 

Proiler'd the Barony's rein to hold ; 

For each man that could draw a sword 

Had march'd that morning with their lord. 

Earl Adam Hepburn, — he who died 

On Flodden, by his Sovereign's side. 

Long may his Lady look in vain ! 250 

She ne'er shall see his gallant train 

Come sweeping back through Crichtoun-Dean. 

■'Twas a brave race, before the name 

Of hated Bothwell stain'd their fame. 

XIII. 

And here two days did Marmion rest, 
AVith every rite that honour claims. 

Attended as the King's own guest ; — 
Such the command of Royal James, 

Who marshall'd then his land's array, 

Upon the Borough-moor that lay. 260 

Perchance he would not foeman's eye 

Upon his gathering host should pry. 



lOS MARMION [Canto IV. 

Till full prepared was every band 

To inarch against the English land. 

Here while they dwelt, did Lindesay's wit 

Oft cheer the Barents moodier fit : 

And, in his turn, he knew to prize 

Lord Marmion's powerful mind, and wise, — 

Trained in the lore of Rome and Greece, 

And policies of war and peace. 270 



XIV. 

It chanced, as fell the second night. 

That on the battlements they walk'd. 
And, by the slowly fading light. 

Of varying topics talked ; 
And, unaware, the Herald-bard 
Said Marmion might his toil have spared 

In travelling so far ; 
For that a messenger from heaven 
In vain to James had counsel given 

Against the English war : 280 

And, closer questioned, thus he told 
A tale which chronicles of old 
In Scottish story have enrolFd : — 



XV. 

'^ Of all the palaces so fair. 

Built for the royal dwelling, 
In Scotland, far beyond compare 

Linlithgow is excelling ; 
And in its park, in jovial June, 
How sweet the merry linnet's tune. 

How blithe the blackbird's lay ! 290 



Canto IV.] THE GAMP 109 

The wild buck bells from ferny brake. 
The coot dives merry on the lake, 
The saddest heart might pleasure take 

To see all nature gay. 
But June is to our Sovereign dear 
The heaviest month in all the year : 
Too well his cause of grief you know, 
June saw his father's overthrow. 
Woe to the traitors who could bring 
The princely boy against his King ! 300 

Still in his conscience burns the sting. 
In offices as strict as Lent, 
King James's June is ever spent. 



XVI. 

'' AVhen last this ruthful month was come. 
And in Linlithgow's holy dome 

The King, as wont, was praying ; 
While for his royal father's soul 
The chanters sung, the bells did toll. 

The Bishop mass was saying — 
For now the year brought round again 310 

The day the luckless King was slain — 
In Katharine's aisle the monarch knelt. 
With sackcloth-shirt, and iron belt. 

And eyes with sorrow streaming ; 
Around him in their stalls of state, 
The Thistle's Knight-Companions sate, 

Their banners o'er them beaming. 
I too was there, and, sooth to tell, 
Bedeafen'd with the jangling knell. 
Was watching where the sunbeams fell, 320 

Through the stain'd casement gleaming ; 
But while I mark'd what next befell 

It seem'd as I were dreaming. 
Stepp'd from the crowd a ghostly wight, 
In azure gown, with cincture white ; 



110 MA BMION [Canto IV . 

His forehead bald, his head was bare, 

Down hung at length his yellow hair. — 

Now, mock me not when, good my Lord, 

I pledge to you my knightly word 

That, when I saw his placid grace, 330 

His simple majesty of face. 

His solemn bearing, and his pace 

So stately gliding on, — 
Seem'd to me ne'er did limner paint 
So just an image of the Saint 
Who propped the Virgin in her faint, — 

The loved Apostle John ! 

XVII. 

'^ He stepped before the Monarch's chair. 
And stood with rustic plainness there. 

And little reverence made ; 340 

Nor head, nor body, bow'd nor bent. 
But on the desk his arm he leant. 

And words like these he said. 
In a low voice, — but never tone 
So thriird through vein, and nerve, and bone : — 
' My mother sent me from afar. 
Sir King, to warn thee not to war, — 

Woe waits on. thine array; 
If war thou wilt, of woman fair. 
Her witching wiles and wanton snare, 350 

James Stuart, doubly warn'd, beware : 

God keep thee as He may ! ' — 
The wondering Monarch seem'd to seek 

For answer, and found none ; 
And when he raised his head to speak. 

The monitor was gone. 
The Marshal and myself had cast 
To stop him as he outward pass'd ; 
But, lighter than the whirlwind's blast, 

He vanish 'd from our eyes, 360 



Canto IV.] THE GAMP 111 

Like sunbeam on the billow cast. 
That glances but, and dies/' 



XVIII. 

While Lindesay told his marvel strange, 

The twilight was so pale. 
He mark'd not Marmion's colour change, 

AVhile listening to the tale : 
But, after a suspended pause. 
The Baron spoke .—" Of Nature's laws 

So strong I held the force. 
That never superhuman cause 370 

Could e/er control their course ; 
And, three days since, had judged your aim 
Was but to make your guest your game. 
But I have seen, since past the Tweed, 
What much has changed my sceptic creed, 
And made me credit aught." — He stayed. 
And seem'd to wish his words unsaid : 
But, by that strong emotion press'd 
Which prompts us to unload our breast. 

Even when discovery's pain, 380 

To Lindesay did at length unfold 
The tale his village host had told. 

At Gitford, to his train. 
Nought of the Palmer says he there, 
And nought of Constance, or of Clare ; 
The thoughts which broke his sleep he seems 
To mention but as feverish dreams. 



XIX. 

'*^In vain/' said he, ^' to rest I spread 
My burning limbs, and couch'd my head : 

Fantastic thoughts return'd ; 390 

And, by their wild dominion led. 

My heart within me burn'd. 



112 MARMION [Canto IV. 

So sore was the delirious goad, 

I took my steed, and forth I rode. 

And, as the moon shone bright and cold, 

Soon reached the camp upon the wold. 

The southern entrance I pass'd through. 

And halted, and my bugle blew. 

Methought an answer met my ear, — 

Yet was the blast so low and drear, 400 

So hollow, and so faintly blown. 

It might be echo of my own. 



XX. 

^' Thus judging, for a little space 
I listened, ere I left the place; 

But scarce could trust my eyes. 
Nor yet can think they serve me true. 
When sudden in the ring I view, 
In form distinct of shape and hue, 

A mounted champion rise. — 
I've fought, Lord-Lion, many a day, 410 

In single fight, and mix'd affray. 
And ever, I myself may say, 

Have borne me as a knight ; 
But when this unexpected foe 
Seem'd starting from the gulf below, — 
I care not though the truth I show, — 

I trembled with affright ; 
And as I placed in rest my spear. 
My hand so shook for very fear, 

I scarce could couch it right. 420 

XXL 

*' "Why need my tongue the issue tell ? 
We ran our course, — my charger fell ; — 
What could he Against the shock of hell ? 
I roird upon the plain. 



Canto IV.] THE CAMP 113 

High o'er my head, with threatening hand. 
The spectre shook his naked brand, — 

Yet did the worst remain : 
My dazzled eyes I upward cast, — 
Not opening hell itself could blast 

Their sight, like what I saw ! 430 

Full on his face the moonbeam strook ! — 
A face could never be mistook ! 
I knew the stern vindictive look, 

And held my breath for awe. 
I saw the face of one who, fled 
To foreign climes, has long been dead, — 

I Avell believe the last ; 
For ne'er, from vizor raised, did stare 
A human warrior, with a glare 

So grimly and so ghast. 440 

Thrice o'er my head he shook the blade ; 
But when to good Saint George I pray'd, 
(The first time e'er I ask'd his aid), 

He plunged it in the sheath ; 
And, on his courser mounting light. 
He seem'd to vanish from my sight : 
The moonbeam droop'd, and deepest night 

Sunk down upon the heath. — 
'Twere long to tell what cause I have 

To know his face that met me there, 450 

Call'd by his hatred from the grave. 

To cumber upper air : 
Dead or alive, good cause had he 
To be my mortal enemy." 



XXII. 

Marvell'd Sir David of the Mount ; 
Then, learn'd in story, 'gan recount 

Such chance had happ'd of old, 
When once, near Norham, there did fight 
A spectre fell of fiendish might. 



114 MARMION [Canto IV. 

In likeness of a Scottish knight, 460 

With Brian Buhner bold, 
And train'd him nigh to disallow 
The aid of his baptismal vow. 
'' And such a phantom, too, 'tis said. 
With Highland broadsword, targe, and plaid. 

And fingers red with gore. 
Is seen in Rothiemnrcns glade. 
Or where the sable pine-trees shade 
Dark Tomantoul, and Auchnaslaid, 

Dromouchty, or Glenmore. 470 

And yet, whate'er such legends say 
Of warlike demon, ghost, or fay. 

On mountain, moor, or plain. 
Spotless in faith, in bosom bold. 
True son of chivalry should hold 

These midnight terrors vain ; 
For seldom have such spirits power 
To harm, save in the evil hour 
When guilt we meditate within. 
Or harbour unrepented sin.'' — 480 

Lord Marmion turii'd him half aside. 
And twice to clear his voice he tried. 

Then press'd Sir David's hand, — 
But nought, at length, in answer said ; 
And here their farther converse staid. 

Each ordering that his band 
Should bowne them with the rising day. 
To Scotland's camp to take their way, — 

Such was the King's command. 



XXIII. 

Early they took Dun-Edin's road, 490 

And I could trace each step they trode : 
Hill, brook, nor dell, nor rock, nor stone. 
Lies on the path to me unknown. 



Canto IV.] THE GAMP 115 

Much might it boast of storied lore ; 

But, passing such digression o'er. 

Suffice it that their route was laid 

Across the furzy hills of Braid. 

They pass'd the glen and scanty rill. 

And climb'd the opposing bank, until 

They gained the top of Blackford Hill. 500 

XXIV. 

Blackford ! on whose uncultured breast, 

Among the broom, and thorn, and whin, 
A truant-boy, I sought the nest. 
Or listed, as I lay at rest. 

While rose, on breezes thin. 
The murmur of the city crowd. 
And, from his steeple jangling loud. 

Saint Giles's mingling din. 
Now, from the summit to the plain. 
Waves all the hill with yellow grain ; 510 

And o^'er the landscape as I look. 
Nought do I see unchanged remain, 

Save the rude cliffs and chiming brook. 
To me they make a heavy moan. 
Of early friendships past and gone. 

XXV. 

But different far the change has been. 

Since Marmion, from the crown 
Of Blackford, saw that martial scene 

Upon the bent so brown : 
Thousand pavilions, white as snow, 520 

Spread all the Borough-moor below. 

Upland, and dale, and down : — 
A thousand did I say ? I ween. 
Thousands on thousands there were seen 
That chequer'd all the heath between 

The streamlet and the town ; 



lie MARMION [Canto IV. 

In crossing ranks extending far, , 

Forming a camp irregular ; j 

Oft giving Avay, where still there stood 

Some relics of the old oak wood, 530 

That darkly huge did intervene, 

And tamed the glaring white with green : 

In these extended lines there lay 

A martial kingdom^s vast array. 

XXVI. 

For from Hebudes, dark with rain. 

To eastern Lodon's fertile plain, I 

And from the southern Redswire edge, ] 

To furthest Rosse's rocky ledge, 

From west to east, from south to north, I 

Scotland sent all her warriors forth. 540 

Marmion might hear the mingled hum ] 

Of myriads up the mountain come ; i 

The horses^ tramp, and tinkling clank, j 

Where chiefs reviewed their vassal rank, \ 

And charger's shrilling neigh ; j 

And see the shifting lines advance, 1 

While frequent flashed, from shield and lance. 

The sun^s reflected ray. 

XXVII. ^ 

Thin curling in the morning air. 

The wreaths of failing smoke declare 550 

To embers now the brands decayed. 

Where the night-watch their fires had made. 

They saw, slow rolling on the plain. 

Full many a baggage-cart and wain. 

And dire artillery's clumsy car. 

By sluggish oxen tugg'd to war ; 

And there Avere Borthwick's Sisters Seven, 

And culverins which France had given. 



Canto I V.J THE CAMP 117 

Ill-omen\l gift ! the guns remain 

The conqueror^s spoil on Flodden plai 560 



XXVIII. 

Nor marked they less, where in the air 
A thousand streamers flaunted fair ; 

Various in shape, device, and hue, 

Green, sanguine, purple, red, and blue. 
Broad, narrow, swallow-taird, and square. 
Scroll, pennon, pensil, bandrol, there 

O^er the pavilions flew. 
Highest and midmost, was descried 
The royal banner floating wide ; 

The staff, a pine-tree, strong and straight, 570 
Pitched deeply in a massive stone. 
Which still in memory is shown. 

Yet bent beneath the standard's Ateight 
Whene'er the western wind unroU'd. 
With toil, the huge and cumbrous fold. 
And gave to view the dazzling field. 
Where, in proud Scotland's royal shield. 
The ruddy lion ramp'd in gold. 

XXIX. 

Lord Marmion view'd the landscape bright, — 

He view'd it with a chief's delight, — 580 

Until within him burn'd his heart. 

And lightning from his eye did part. 
As on the battle-day ; 

Such glance did falcon never dart. 
When stooping on his prey. 
'' Oh ! well, Lord-Lion, hast thou said. 
Thy King from warfare to dissuade 

Were but a vain essay : 
For, by Saint George, were that host mine, 
Not power infernal, nor divine, 590 



118 MARMIOJ^ [Canto IV. 

Should once to peace my soul incline, 
Till I had dimm'd their armour's shine 

In glorious battle-fray ! '^ 
Answer'd the Bard, of milder mood : 
" Fair is the sight, — and yet 'twere good, 

That kings would think withal. 
When peace and wealth their land has bless'd, 
'Tis better to sit still at rest. 

Than rise, perchance to fall." 



XXX. 

still on the spot Lord Marmion stayed, 600 

For fairer scene he ne'er surveyed. 

When sated with the martial show 

That peopled all the plain below. 

The wandering eye could o'er it go. 

And mark the distant city glow 
With gloomy splendour red ; 

For on the smoke-wreaths, huge and slow, 

That round her sable turrets flow, 
The morning beams were shed, 

And tinged them with a lustre proud, 610 

Like that which streaks a thunder-cloud. 
Such dusky grandeur clothed the height 
Where the huge castle holds its state. 

And all the steep slope down. 
Whose ridgy back heaves to the sky, 
Piled deep and massy, close and high, 

Mine own romantic town ! 
But northward far, with purer blaze. 
On Ochil mountains fell the rays. 
And as each heathy top they kiss'd, 620 

It gleam'd a purple amethyst. 
Yonder the shores of Fife you saw ; 
Here Preston-Bay, and Berwick-Law ; 

And, broad between them roll'd. 



Canto IV.] THE CAMP 119 

The gallant Frith the eye might note. 
Whose islands on its bosom float, 

Like emeralds chased in gold. 
Fitz-Eustace' heart felt closely pent ; 
As if to give his rapture vent. 
The spur he to his charger lent, 630 

And raised his bridle hand. 
And, making demi-volte in air. 
Cried, " Where 's the coward that would not dare 

To fight for such a land ! " 
The Lindesay smiled his joy to see ; 
Nor Marmion^s frown repressed his glee. 



XXXI. 

Thus while they looked, a flourish proud. 
Where mingled trump, and clarion loud. 

And fife, and kettle-drum. 
And sackbut deep, and psaltery, 640 

And war-pipe with discordant cry. 
And cymbal clattering to the sky, 
Making wild music bold and high. 

Did up the mountain come ; 
The whilst the bells, with distant chime. 
Merrily toll'd the hour of prime. 

And thus the Lindesay spoke : 
*' Thus clamour still the war-notes when 
The King to mass his way has ta'en. 
Or to Saint Katharine's of Sienne, 650 

Or Chapel of Saint Rocque. 
To you they speak of martial fame ; 
But me remind of peaceful game. 

When blither was their cheer. 
Thrilling in Falkland-woods the air. 
In signal none his steed should spare. 
But strive which foremost might repair 

To the downfall of the deer. 



120 MARMION [Canto IV. 



XXXII. 

** Nor less/' he said, — " when looking forth, 

I view yon Empress of the North 660 

Sit on her hilly throne ; 
Her palace's imperial bowers, 
Her castle, proof to hostile powers. 
Her stately halls and holy towers— 

Nor less," he said, "I moan. 
To think what woe mischance may bring, 
And how these merry bells may ring 
The death-dirge of our gallant King ; 

Or with their larum call 
The burghers forth to watch and ward, 670 

'Gainst Southern sack and fires to guard 

Dun-Edin's leaguer'd wall. — 
But not for my presaging thought. 
Dream conquest sure, or cheaply bought ! 

Lord Marmion, I say nay : 
God is the guider of the field. 
He breaks the champion's spear and shield, — 

But thou thyself shalt say, 
When joins yon host in deadly stowre, 
That England's dames must weep in bower, 680 

Her monks the death-mass sing ; 
For never saw'st thou such a power 

Led on by such a King." — 
And now, down winding to the plain. 
The barriers of the camp they gain. 

And there they made a stay. — 
There stays the Minstrel, till he fling 
His hand o'er every Border string. 
And fit his harp the pomp to sing 
Of Scotland's ancient Court and King, 690 

In the succeeding lay. 



INTEODUCTION TO CANTO FIFTH. 



TO GEORGE ELLIS, ESQ. 

Edinbicrgh. 

Whej^" dark December glooms the day, 

And takes our autumn joys away ; 

When short and scant the sunbeam throws. 

Upon tlie weary waste of snows, 

A cold and profitless regard. 

Like patron on a needy bard ; 

When silvan occupation 's done. 

And o'er the chimney rests the gun. 

And hang in idle trophy near. 

The game-pouch, fishing-rod, and spear ; 10 

When wiry terrier, rough and grim, 

And greyhound, with his length of limb. 

And pointer, now employed no more. 

Cumber our parlour's narrow floor ; 

When in his stall the impatient steed 

Is long condemned to rest and feed ; 

When from our snow-encircled home 

Scarce cares the hardiest step to roam. 

Since path is none, save that to bring 

The needful water from the spring ; 20 

When wrinkled news-page, thrice conn'd o'er, 

Beguiles the dreary hour no more, 

And darkling politician, cross'd. 

Inveighs against the lingering post. 

And answering housewife sore complains 

Of carriers' snow-impeded wains ; 

Wlien such the country cheer, I come 

Well pleased to seek our city home ; 



122 MARMION 

For converse, and for books, to change 

The Forest's melancholy range, 30 

And welcome with renew'd delight 

The busy day and social night. 



Not here need my desponding rhyme 
Lament the ravages of time. 
As erst by Newark's riven towers. 
And Ettrick stripped of forest bowers. 
True, — Caledonia's Queen is changed, 
Since on her dusky summit ranged, 
Within its steepy limits pent 

By bulwark, line, and battlement, 40 

And flanking towers, and laky flood. 
Guarded and garrisoned she stood. 
Denying entrance or resort. 
Save at each tall embattled port. 
Above whose arch, suspended, hung 
Portcullis spiked with iron prong. 
That long is gone, — but not so long 
Since, early closed, and opening late. 
Jealous revolved the studded gate, 
Whose task, from eve to morning tide, 50 

A wicket churlishly supplied. 
Stern then, and steel-girt was thy brow, 
Dun-Edin ! 0, how altered now. 
When safe amid thy mountain court 
Thou sitt'st, like empress at her sport ; 
And liberal, unconfined, and free. 
Flinging thy white arms to the sea. 
For thy dark cloud, with umber'd lower, 
That hung o'er cliff, and lake, and tower. 
Thou gleam'st against the western ray 60 

Ten thousand lines of brighter day. 



Not she, th6 Ohampioness of old. 
In Spenser's magic tale enroll'd, 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIFTH 123 

She for the charmed spear renownM, 

AVhich forced each knight to kiss the ground, — 

Not she more changed, when, placed at rest. 

What time she was Malbecco's guest. 

She gave to flow her maiden vest ; 

When from the corselet's grasp relieved. 

Free to the sight her bosom heaved ; 70 

Sweet was her blue eye's modest smile. 

Erst hidden by the aventayle ; 

And down her shoulders graceful rolled 

Her locks profuse, of paly gold. 

They who whilom, in midnight fight. 

Had marvelFd at her matchless might, 

No less her maiden charms approved, 

But looking liked, and liking loved. 

The sight could jealous pangs beguile. 

And charm Malbecco^s cares awhile ; 80 

And he, the wandering Squire of Dames, 

Forgot his Columbella's claims. 

And passion, erst unknown, could gain 

The breast of blunt Sir Satyrane ; 

Nor durst light Paridel advance, 

Bold as he was, a looser glance. 

She charm'd at once and tamed the heart. 

Incomparable Britomart ! 

So thou, fair City ! disarrayed 
Of battled wall, and rampart's aid, 90 

As stately seem'st, but lovelier far 
Than in that panoply of war. 
Nor deem that from thy fenceless throne 
Strength and security are flown ; 
Still as of yore. Queen of the North ! 
Still canst thou send thy children forth. 
Ne'er readier at alarm-bell's call 
Thy burghers rose to man thy wall. 
Than now, in danger, shall be thine. 
Thy dauntless voluntary line ; 100 



124 MARMION 

For fosse and turret i^roucl to stand. 

Their breasts the bulwarks of the land. 

Thy thousands, trained to martial toil. 

Full red would stain their native soil, 

Ere from thy mural crown there fell 

The slightest knosp, or pinnacle. 

And if it come, — as come it may, 

Dun-Edin ! that eventful day, — 

Renown'd for hospitable deed. 

That virtue much with Heaven may plead, 110 

In patriarchal times whose care 

Descending angels deign'd to share ; 

That claim may wrestle blessings down 

On those who fight for the Good Town, 

Destined in ever}^ age to be 

Refuge of injured royalty ; 

Since first, when conquering York arose. 

To Henry meek she gave repose. 

Till late, with wonder, grief, and awe. 

Great Bourbon's relics sad she saw. 120 



Truce to these thoughts ! — for, as they rise. 
How gladly I avert mine eyes, 
Bodings, or true or false, to change 
For Fiction's fair romantic range. 
Or for Tradition's dubious light. 
That hovers 'twixt the day and night : 
Dazzling alternately and dim, 
Her wavering lamp I'd rather trim. 
Knights, squires, and lovely dames to see. 
Creation of my fantasy, 130 

Than gaze abroad on reeky fen. 
And make of mists invading men. — 
Who loves not more the night of June 
Than dull December's gloomy noon ? 
The moonlight than the fog of frost ? 
And can we say which cheats the most ? 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO FIFTH 125 

But who shall teach my harp to gain 
A sound of the romantic strain. 
Whose Anglo-Xorman tones whilere 
Could win the royal Henry^s ear, 140 

Famed Beauclerk call'd, for that lie loved 
The minstrel, and his lay approved ? 
Who shall these lingering notes redeem^ 
Decaying on Oblivion^s stream ; 
Such notes as from the Breton tongue 
Marie translated, Blondel sung ? — 
! born Time's ravage to repair. 
And make the dying Muse thy care ; 
Who, when his scythe her hoary foe 
Was poising for the final blow, 150 

The weapon from his hand could wring, 
And break his glass, and shear his wing. 
And bid, reviving in his strain. 
The gentle poet live again ; 
Thou, who canst give to lightest lay 
An unpedantic moral gay, 
Nor less the dullest theme bid flit 
On wings of unexpected wit ; 
In letters as in life approved. 

Example honoured, and beloved, — 160 

Dear Ellis ! to the bard impart 
A lesson of thy magic art. 
To win at once the head and heart, — 
At once to charm, instruct, and mend, 
My guide, my pattern, and my friend ! 

Such minstrel lesson to bestow 
Be long thy pleasing task, — but, ! 
No more by thy example teach, — 
What few can practise, all can preach, — 
With even patience to endure 170 

Lingering disease, and painful cure, 
And boast affliction's pangs subdued 
By mild and manly fortitude. 



126 MAHMION 

Enough, tlie lesson has been given : 
Forbid tlie repetition, Heaven ! 

Come listen, then ! for thou hast known. 
And loved the MinstreFs varying tone, 
AVho, like his Border sires of old, 
AVaked a wild measure rude and bold, 
Till Windsor^s oaks, and Ascot plain, 180 

With wonder heard the Northern strain. 
Come listen ! bold in thy applause. 
The bard shall scorn pedantic laws ; 
And, as the ancient art could stain 
Achievements on the storied pane. 
Irregularly traced and planned. 
But yet so glowing and so grand, — 
So shall he strive, in changeful hue. 
Field, feast, and combat, to renew. 
And loves, and arms, and harpers^ glee, 190 

And all the pomp of chivalry. 



CANTO FIFTH. 
THE COURT. 

I. 

The train has left the hills of Braid ; 
The barrier guard have open made 
(So Lindesay bade) the palisade 

That closed the tented ground ; 
Their men the warders backward drew, 
And carried pikes as they rode through. 

Into its ample bound. 
Fast ran the Scottish warriors there. 
Upon the Southern band to stare ; 
And envy with their wonder rose, 10 

To see such well-appointed foes ; 
Such length of shafts, such mighty bows. 
So huge that many simply thought 
But for a vaunt such weapons wrought ; 
And little deemed their force to feel 
Through links of mail, and plates of steel. 
When, rattling upon Flodden vale, 
The cloth-yard arrows flew like hail. 



II. 

Nor less did Marmion's skilful view 
Glance every line and squadron through ; 20 

And much he marvell'd one small land 
Could marshal forth such various band : 
For men-at-arms Avere here. 



128 MARMION [Canto V. 

Heavily slieiitlicd in iiuiil iiiul plali'. 
Like iron towers for strength and weiglit, 
On Flemish steeds of bone and height, 

With battle-axe and spear. 
Yonng knights and sqnires,, a lighter train, 
Praetised their chargers on the plain, 
By aid of leg, of hand, and rein, 30 

Each warlike feat to show, 
'Vo pass, to wheel, the cronpe to gain, 
And high curvett, that not in vain 
The sword sway might descend amain 

On foeman's casqne below. 
IFe saw the hardy bui-ghers there 
March arni'd, on foot, with faces bare. 

For vizor they wore none. 
Nor waving plume, nor crest of knight ; 
But burnish'd were their corslets bright, 40 

Their brigan tines, aiul gorgets light. 

Like very silver shone. 
Long pikes they had for standing liglit, 

Two-handed swoi-ds they wore, 
And many wielded mace of weight. 

And bucklers bright they bore. 



III. 

On foot the yeoman too, but dress'd 
In his steel-jack, a swarthy vest. 

With iron quilted well ; 
Each at his back (a slender store) 50 

ITis forty days' provision bore, 

As feudal statutes teU. 
His arms wei'c halbert, axe, or spear, 
A crossbow there, a hagbut here, 

A dagger-knife, and brand. 
Sober he seemM, and sad of cheer. 
As loath to leave his cottage dear. 

And march to foreign strand ; 



Canto V.] THE COURT 129 

Or musing who would guide his steer 

To till the fallow laud. 00 

Yet deem not in his thoughtful eye 
Did aught of dastard terror lie ; 

More dreadful far his ire 
Than theirs who, scoi'uing danger's name. 
In eager mood to battle came, 
Their valour like light straw on flame, 

A fierce but fading fire. 



IV. 

Not so the Borderer : — bred to war. 
He knew the battle's din afar, 

And joy'd to hear it swell. W 

His peaceful day was slothful ease ; 
Nor harp, nor pipe, his ear could please. 

Like the loud slogan yell. 
On active steed, with lance and blade. 
The light-arm'd pricker plied his trade, — 

Let nobles fight for fame ; 
Let vassals follow v/here they lead. 
Burghers, to guard their townships, bleed. 

But war 's the Borderer's game. 
Their gain, their glory, their delight, 80 

To sleep the day, maraud the night. 

O'er mountain, moss, and moor ; 
Joyful to fight they took their way, 
Scarce caring who might win the day, 

Their booty was secure. 
These, as Lord Marmion's train pass'd by, 
Look'd on at first with careless eye, 
Nor marvell'd aught, well taught to know 
The form and force of English bow. 
But when they saw the Lord array'd 90 

In splendid arms, and rich brocade, 
Each Borderer to his kinsman said, — 



130 MABMION LCanto V. 

^' Hist, Ringan ! seest thou there ! 
Canst guess which road they '11 homeward ride ? — 
! could we but on Border side. 
By Eusedale glen, or Liddell's tide. 

Beset a prize so fair ! 
That fangless Lion, too, their guide. 
Might chance to lose his glistering hide ; 
Brown Maudlin of that doublet pied 100 

Could make a kirtle rare/'' 



!N"ext, Marmion marked the Celtic race. 
Of different language, form, and face, 

A various race of man ; 
Just then the chiefs their tribes array'd. 
And wild and garish semblance made 
The chequered trews, and belted plaid. 
And varying notes the war-pipes bray'd. 

To every varying clan ; 
Wild through their red or sable hair 110 

Looked out their eyes with savage stare 

On Marmion as he pass'd ; 
Their legs above the knee were bare ; 
Their frame was sinewy, short, and spare, 

And hardened to the blast ; 
Of taller race, the chiefs they own 
Were by the eaglets plumage known. 
The hunted red-deer's undressed hide 
Their hairy buskins well supplied ; 
The graceful bonnet deck'd their head : 120 

Back from their shoulders hung the plaid ; 
A broadsword of unwieldy length, 
A dagger proved for edge and strength, 

A studded targe they wore, 
And quivers, bows, and shafts, — but, ! 
Short was the shaft, and weak the bow, 

To that which England bore. 



caxto v.] the court 131 

The Isles-men carried at their backs 

The ancient Danish battle-axe. 

They raised a wild and wondering cry, 130 

As with his guide rode Marmion by. 

Loud were their clamouring tongues, as when 

The clanging sea-fowl leave the fen, 

And, with tlieir cries discordant mix'd. 

Grumbled and yell'd the pipes betwixt. 

VI. 

Thus through the Scottish camp they pass'd. 

And reach VI the city gate at last, 

AVhere all around, a wakeful guard, 

Arm^d burghers kept their watch and ward. 

Well had they cause of jealous fear, 140 

When lay encamp'd, in field so near, 

The Borderer and the Mountaineer. 

As through the bustling streets they go. 

All was alive with martial show : 

At every turn, with dinning clang. 

The armourer's anvil clash'd and rang ; 

Or toil'd the swarthy smith to wheel 

The bar that arms the charger's heel ; 

Or axe, or falchion, to the side 

Of jarring grindstone w^as applied. 150 

Page, groom, and squire, with hurrying pace, 

Through street, and lane, and market-place. 

Bore lance, or casque, or sword ; 
While burghers, with important face. 

Described each new-come lord, 
Discuss'd his lineage, told his name. 
His following, and his warlike fame. 
The Lion led to lodging meet. 
Which high o'erlook'd the crowded street ; 

There must the Baron rest 160 

Till past the hour of vesper tide. 
And then to Holy-Rood must ride, — 

Such was the King's behest. 



132 MARMION [Canto V. 

Meanwhile the Lion's care assigns 
A banquet rich, and costly wines. 

To Marmion and his train ; 
And when the appointed hour succeeds. 
The Baron dons his peaceful weeds. 
And following Lindesay as he leads. 

The palace-halls they gain. 170 

VII. 

Old Holy-Rood rung merrily, 
That night, with wassel, mirth, and glee : 
King James within her princely bower 
Feasted the chiefs of Scotland's power, 
Summoned to spend the parting hour ; 
For he had charged that his array 
Should southward march by break of day. 
Well loved that splendid monarch aye 

The banquet and the song, 
By day the tourney, and by night 180 

The merry dance, traced fast and light, 
The maskers quaint, the pageant bright. 

The revel loud and long. 
This feast outshone his banquets past ; 
It was his blithest, — and his last. 
The dazzling lamps, from gallery gay. 
Cast on the Court a dancing ray ; 
Here to the harp did minstrels sing ; 
There ladies touched a softer string ; 
With long-ear'd cap, and motley vest, 190 

The licensed fool retail'd his jest ; 
His magic tricks the juggler plied ; 
At dice and draughts the gallants vied ; 
While some, in close recess apart. 
Courted the ladies of their heart. 

Nor courted them m vain ; 
For often, in the parting hour. 
Victorious Love asserts his power 

O'er coldness and disdain ; 



Canto V.] THE COURT 133 

And flinty is her hearty can view 200 

To battle march a lover true — 
Can hear, perchance, his last adieu, 
Xor own her share of pain. 

VIII. 

Through this mix'd crowd of glee and game. 
The King to greet Lord Marmion came. 

While, reverent, all made room. 
An easy task it was, I trow. 
King Jameses manly form to know. 
Although, his courtesy to show. 
He dolf'd to Marmion bending low 210 

His broider'd cap and plume. 
For royal were his garb and mien : 

His cloak, of crimson velvet piled. 

Trimmed with the fur of marten wild ; 
His vest of changeful satin sheen, 

The dazzled eye beguiled ; 
His gorgeous collar hung adown. 
Wrought with the badge of Scotland's crown. 
The thistle brave, of old renown : 
His trusty blade, Toledo right, 220 

Descended from a baldric bright ; 
White were his buskins, on the heel 
His spurs inlaid of gold and steel ; 
His bonnet, all of crimson fair. 
Was button'd with a ruby rare : 
And Marmion deem^l he ne'er had seen 
A prince of such a noble mien. 

IX. 

The Monarch's form was middle size. 
For feat of strength, or exercise. 

Shaped in proportion fair ; 230 

And hazel was his eagle eye. 
And auburn of the darkest dye 

His short curl'd beard and hair. 



134 MARMION [Canto V. 

Light was his footstep in the dance. 

And firm his stirrup in the lists ; 
And, oh ! he had tliat merry glance 

Tliat seldom lady's heart resists. 
Lightly from fair to fair he flew, 
And loved to plead, lament, and sue ; — 
Suit lightly won, and short-lived pain, 240 

For monarchs seldom sigh in vain. 

I said he joy'd in banquet bower ; 
But, 'mid his mirth, 'twas often strange 
How suddenly his cheer would change. 

His look o'ercast and lower. 
If, in a sudden turn, he felt 
The pressure of his iron belt. 
That bound his breast in penance pain, 
In memory of his father slain. 

Even so 'twas strange how evermore, 250 

Soon as the passing pang was o'er. 
Forward he rush'd, with double glee. 
Into the stream of revelry : 
Thus dim-seen object of affright 
Startles the courser in his flight. 
And half he halts, half springs aside ; 
But feels the quickening spur applied. 
And, straining on the tighten'd rein, 
Scours doubly swift o'er hill and plain. 

X. 

O'er James's heart, the courtiers say, 260 

Sir Hugh the Heron's wife held sway : 

To Scotland's Court she came 
To be a hostage for her lord. 
Who Cessford's gallant heart had gored. 
And with the King to make accord 

Had sent his lovely dame. 
Nor to that lady free alone 
Did the gay King allegiance own ; 



Canto V.] THE COURT 135 

For the fair Queen of France 
Sent him a turquoise ring and glove, 270 

And charged him, as her knight and love, 

For her to break a lance ; 
And strike three strokes with Scottish })rand, 
And march three miles on Southron land. 
And bid the banners of his band 

In English breezes dance. 
And thus for France's Queen he drest 
His manly limbs in mailed vest ; 
And thus admitted English fair 
His inmost counsels still to share ; 280 

And thus, for both, he madly planned 
The ruin of himself and land ! 

And yet, the sooth to tell. 
Nor England^'s fair, nor France's Queen. 
Were worth one pearl-drop, bright and sheen, 

From Margaret's eyes that fell, — 
His own Queen Margaret, who in Lithgow's bower 
All lonely sat, and wept the weary hour. 



XI. 

The Queen sits lone in Lithgow pile. 

And weeps, the Aveary day, 290 

The war against her native soil, 
Her Monarch's risk in battle broil : — 
And in gay Holy-Rood the while 
Dame Heron rises with a smile 

Upon the harp to play. 
Fair was her rounded arm, as o'er 

The strings her fingers flew : 
And as she touch'd and tuned them all, 
Ever her bosom's rise and fall 

Was plainer given to view ; 300 

For, all for heat, was laid aside 
Her wimple, and her hood untied. 



136 MARMION [Canto V. 

And first she pitched her voice to sing, 

Then glanced her dark eye on the King, 

And then around the silent ring ; 

And laugh'd, and blush'd, and oft did say 

Her pretty oath, by Yea and Nay, 

She could not, would not, durst not play ! 

At length, upon the harp, with glee. 

Mingled with arch simplicity, 310 

A soft, yet lively air she rung. 

While thus the wily lady sung : — 



XII. 

LOCHINVAR. 

0, young Lochinvar is come out of the west. 
Through all the wide Border his steed was the best ; 
And save his good broadsword he weapons had none. 
He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone. 
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, 
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. 

He staid not for brake, and he stopp'd not for stone. 

He swam the Eske river where ford there was none ; 320 

But ere he alighted at Netherby gate 

The bride had consented, the gallant came late : 

For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, 

Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. 

So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall, 

Among bride's-men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all : 

Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword, 

(For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,) 

"■ come ye in peace here, or come ye in war. 

Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar? '' — 330 



Canto V.] THE COURT 137 

^^I long woo^d your daughter, my suit you denied ; — 
Love swells like the Sol way, but ebbs like its tide — 
And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, 
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. 
There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far. 
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar." 



The bride kiss'd the goblet : the knight took it up. 
He quaff 'd off the wine, and he threw down the cup. 
She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh. 
With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. 340 

He took her soft hand ere her mother could bar, — 
" Now tread we a measure ! '' said young Lochinvar. 



So stately his form, and so lovely her face, 

That never a hall such a galliard did grace ; 

While her mother did fret, and her father did fume. 

And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume ; 

And the bride-maidens whisperM, " 'Twere better by far 

To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar." 

One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, 
AVhen they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood 
near ; 350 

So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung. 
So light to the saddle before her he sprung ! 
" She is won ! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur ; 
They^ll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochin- 
var. 

There was mounting ^mong Graemes of the Netherby clan ; 

Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran : 

There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, 

But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. 

So daring in love, and so dauntless in war. 

Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar ? 360 



138 MARMION [Canto V. 

XIII. i 

The Monarch o'er the siren hung, i 
And beat the measure as she sung ; 
And, pressing closer, and more near, 

He whisperd praises in her ear. ' 
In loud applause the courtiers vied ; 

And ladies wink'd, and spoke aside. i 

The witching dame to Marmion threw " 1 

A glance, where seem'd to reign \ 

The pride that claims applauses due, i 

And of her royal conquest too, 370 1 

A real or feign'd disdain : | 

Familiar was the look, and told • 

Marmion and she were friends of old. 

The King observed their meeting eyes \ 

With something like displeased surprise ; 1 

For monarchs ill can rivals brook, ^ 

Even in a word, or smile, or look. | 
Straight took he forth the parchment broad. 

Which Marmion's high commission show'd : , 

'' Our Borders sack'd by many a raid, 380 j 

Our peaceful liege-men robb'd,^" he said ; 

^' On day of truce our Warden slain, , 

Stout Barton killM, his vessels ta'en — I 

Unworthy were we here to reign, j 
Should these for vengeance cry in vain ; 
Our full defiance, hate, and scorn. 
Our herald has to Henry borne." 

XIV. 

He paused, and led where Douglas stood 

And with stern eye the pageant view'd : 

I mean that Douglas, sixth of yore, 390 

Who coronet of Angus bore, 

And, when his blood and heart were high, 

Did the third James in camp defy. 

And all his minions led to die 



Canto v.] THE COURT 139 

On Lauder^s dreary flat : 
Princes and favourites long grew tame, 
And trembled at the homely name 

Of Archibald Bell-the-Cat ; 
The same who left the dusky vale 
Of Hermitage in Liddisdale, 400 

Its dungeons, and its towers. 
Where Bothwell's turrets brave the air. 
And Both well bank is blooming fair. 

To fix his princely bowers. 
Though now, in age, he had laid down 
His armour for the peaceful gown. 

And for a staff his brand. 
Yet often would flash forth the fire 
That could, in youth, a monarch's ire 

And minion's pride withstand ; 410 

And even that day, at council board, 

Unapt to soothe his Sovereign's mood. 

Against the war had Angus stood. 
And chafed his royal Lord. 



XV. 

His giant-form, like ruin'd tower. 
Though fairn its muscles' brawny vaunt, 
Huge-bonecf, and tall, and grim, and gaunt, 

Seem'd o'er the gaudy scene to lower : 
His locks and beard in silver grew. 
His eyebrows kept their sable hue. 420 

Near Douglas when the Monarch stood. 
His bitter speech he thus pursued : — 
''Lord Marmion, since these letters say 
That in the North you needs must stay 

While slightest hopes of peace remain, 
Uncourteous speech it were, and stern. 
To say — Eeturn to Lindisfarne, 

Until my herald come again. — 



140 MARMION [Canto V. 

Then rest yon in Tantallon Hold ; 

Your host shall be the Douglas bold, — 430 

A chief unlike his sires of old. 

He wears their motto on his blade. 

Their blazon o^er his towers displayM ; 

Yet loves his Sovereign to oppose 

More than to face his country's foes. 
And, I bethink me, by Saint Stephen, 
But e'en this morn to me was given 

A prize, the first fruits of the war, 

Ta'en by a galley from Dunbar, 
A bevy of the maids of Heaven. 440 

Under your guard these holy maids 

Shall safe return to cloister shades. 

And, while they at Tantallon stay, 

Eequiem for Cochran's soul may say/' 

And, with the slaughter'd favourite's name. 

Across the Monarch's brow there came 

A cloud of ire, remorse, and shame. 

XVI. 

In answer nought could Angus speak ; 

His proud heart swell'd wellnigh to break : 

He turn'd aside, and down his cheek 450 

A burning tear there stole. 
His hand the Monarch sudden took, 
That sight his kind heart could not brook : 

^' Now, by the Bruce's soul, 
Angus, my hasty speech forgive ! 
For sure as doth his spirit live. 
As he said of the Douglas old, 

I well may say of you, — 
That never king did subject hold. 
In speech more free, in war more bold, 460 

More tender and more true : 
Forgive me, Douglas, once again." — 
And, while the King his hand did strain. 
The old man's tears fell down like rain. 



Canto v.] THE COURT 141 

To seize the moment Marmion tried. 

And whispered to the King aside : 

^*0h ! let such tears unwonted plead 

For respite short from dubious deed ! 

A child will weep a bramble's smart, 

A maid to see her sparrow part, 470 

A stripling for a woman^s heart : 

But woe awaits a country when 

She sees the tears of bearded men. 

Then, oh ! what omen, dark and high. 

When Douglas wets his manly eye ! " 



XVII. 

Displeased was James, that stranger viewM 

And tampered with his changing mood. 

" Laugh those that can, weep those that may/^ 

Thus did the fiery Monarch say, 

" Southward I march by break of day ; 480 

And if within Tantallon strong 

The good Lord Marmion tarries long. 

Perchance our meeting next may fall 

At Tamworth, in his castle-hall.^'' — 

The haughty Marmion felt the taunt, 

And answered, grave, the royal vaunt : 

" Much honour 'd were my humble home. 

If in its halls King James should come ; 

But Nottingham has archers good, 

And Yorkshire men are stern of mood, 490 

Northumbrian prickers wild and rude. 

On Derby Hills the paths are steep ; 

In Ouse and Tyne the fords are deep ; 

And many a banner will be torn, 

And many a knight to earth be borne. 

And many a sheaf of arrows spent. 

Ere Scotland's King shall cross the Trent : 

Yet pause, brave Prince, while yet you may ! " — 

The Monarch lightly turnM away. 



142 MARMION [Canto V. 

And to his nobles loud did call, — 500 

'' Lords, to the dance, — a hall ! a hall ! " 

Himself his cloak and sword flung by. 

And led Dame Heron gallantly ; 

And minstrels, at the royal order, 

Rung out — " Blue Bonnets o'er the Border/' 



xvni. 

Leave we these revels now, to tell 

What to Saint Hilda's maids befell. 

Whose galley, as they sail'd again 

To Whitby, by a Scot was ta'en. 

Now at Dun-Edin did they bide, 510 

Till James should of their fate decide ; 

And soon, by his command. 
Were gently summon'd to prepare 
To journey under Marmion's care. 
As escort honour'd, safe, and fair. 

Again to English land. 
The Abbess told her chaplet o'er, 
Nor knew which Saint she should implore ; 
For, when she thought of Constance, sore 

She fear'd Lord Marmion's mood. 520 

And judge what Clara must have felt ! 
The sword that hung in Marmion's belt 

Had drunk He Wilton's blood. 
Unwittingly, King James had given, 

As guard to Whitby's shades, 
The man most dreaded under heaven 

By these defenceless maids : 
Yet what petition could avail. 
Or who would listen to the tale 

Of woman, prisoner, and nun, 530 

Mid bustle of a war begun ? 
They deem'd it hopeless to avoid 
The convoy of their dangerous guide. 



Canto v.] THE COURT 143 

XIX. 

Their lodging, so the King assign^, 
To Marmion^s, as their guardian, joined ; 
And thus it fell that, passing nigh. 
The Palmer caught the Abbess' eye. 

Who warned him by a scroll 
She had a secret to reveal. 
That much concern'd the Church's weal, 540 

And health of sinner's soul ; 
And, with deep charge of secrecy. 

She named a place to meet. 
Within an open balcony. 
That hung from dizzy pitch, and high. 

Above the stately street ; 
To which, as common to each home. 
At night they might in secret come. 



XX. 

At night, in secret, there they came. 

The Palmer and the holy dame. 650 

The moon among the clouds rose high. 

And all the city hum was by. 

Upon the street, where late before 

Did din of war and warriors roar, 

You might have heard a pebble fall, 
A beetle hum, a cricket sing. 
An owlet flap his boding wing 

On Giles's steeple tall. 
The antique buildings, climbing high. 
Whose Gothic frontlets sought the sky, 560 

Were here wrapt deep in shade ; 
There on their brows the moonbeam broke. 
Through the faint wreaths of silvery smoke. 

And on the casements play'd. 
And other light was none to see. 

Save torches gliding far. 



144 MARMION [Canto V. , 

Before some chieftain of degree, 1 

Who left the royal revelry 1 

To bowne him for the war. — j 

A solemn scene the Abbess chose; 570 j 

A solemn hour, her secret to disclose. \ 



XXI. 

'^ 0, holy Palmer ! " she began, — 

'* For sure he must be sainted man. 

Whose blessed feet have trod the ground 

Where the Redeemer's tomb is found, — 

For His dear Church's sake, my tale 

Attend, nor deem of light avail, 

Though I must speak of worldly love, — 

How vain to those Avho wed above ! — 

De Wilton and Lord Marmion woo'd 680 

Clara de Clare, of Gloster's blood ; 

(Idle it were of Whitby's dame. 

To say of that same blood I came ;) 

And once, when jealous rage was high. 

Lord Marmion said despiteously, 

Wilton was traitor in his heart. 

And had made league with Martin Swart, 

When he came here on Simnel's part. 

And only cowardice did restrain 

His rebel aid on Stokefield's plain, — 590 

And down he threw his glove : — the thing 

Was tried, as wont, before the King ; 

Where frankly did De AVilton own 

That Swart in Guelders he had known ; 

And that between them then there went 

Some scroll of courteous compliment. 

For this he to his castle sent ; 

But when his messenger returned. 

Judge how De Wilton's fury burn'd ! 



Canto v.] THE COURT 145 

For in his packet there were laid 600 

Letters that claimed disloyal aid. 

And proved King Henry's cause betray'd. 

His fame, thus blighted, in the field 

He strove to clear by spear and shield ; — 

To clear his fame in vain he strove. 

For wondrous are His ways above ! 

Perchance some form was unobserved ; 

Perchance in prayer, or faith, he swerved ; 

Else how could guiltless champion quail, 

Or how the blessed ordeal fail ? 610 



XXII. 

'^ His squire, who now De Wilton saw 
As recreant doom'd to suffer law, 

Kepentant, own'd in vain. 
That, while he had the scrolls in care, 
A stranger maiden, passing fair. 
Had drencli'd him with a beverage rare ; 

His words no faith could gain. 
With Clare alone lie credence won, 
AVho, rather than wed Marmion, 
Did to Saint Hilda's shrine repair, 620 

To give our house her livings fair. 
And die a vestal vot'ress there. 
The impulse from the earth was given, 
But bent her to the paths of heaven. 
A purer heart, a lovelier maid, 
Ne^er sheltered her in AVliitby's shade, 
No, not since Saxon Eflelfled ; 
Only one trace of earthly strain, 

That for her lover's loss 
She cherishes a sorrow vain, G30 

And murmurs at the cross. — 
And then her heritage ; — it goes 

Along the banks of Tame ; 



146 M ARM ION [Canto V. 

Deep fields of grain the reaper mows. 
In meadows rich the heifer lows. 
The falconer and huntsman knows 

Its woodlands for the game. 
Shame were it to Saint Hilda dear. 
And I, her humble vot'ress here. 

Should do a deadly sin, 640 

Her temple spoiFd before mine eyes 
If this false Marmion such a prize 

By my consent should win ; 
Yet hath our boisterous Monarch sworn 
That Clare shall from our house be torn ; 
And grievous cause have I to fear 
Such mandate doth Lord Marmion bear. 



XXIII. 

^' Now, prisoner, helpless, and betrayed 
To evil power, I claim thine aid. 

By every step that thou hast trod 65Q 

To holy shrine and grotto dim, 
By every martyr^s tortured limb, 
By angel, saint, and seraphim, 

And by the Church of God ! 
For mark : — When Wilton was betrayed. 
And with his squire forged letters laid. 
She was, alas ! that sinful maid 

By whom the deed was done, — 
Oh ! shame and horror to be said ! 

She was a perjured nun ! 660 

No clerk in all the land like her 
Traced quaint and varying character. 
Perchance you may a marvel deem. 

That Marmion's paramour 
(For such vile thing she was) should scheme 

Her lover's nuptial hour ; 



Canto V.J THE COURT U7 

But o'er him tliiis she hoped to gain, 
As privy to his honour's stain, 

Illimitable power : 
For this she secretly retain'd 670 

Each proof that might the plot reveal. 

Instructions with his hand and seal ; 
And thus Saint Hilda deign'd. 

Through sinner's perfidy impure. 

Her house's glory to secure. 

And Clare's immortal weal. 



XXIV. 

*' 'Twere long, and needless, here to tell 
How to my hand these papers fell ; 

With me they must not stay. 
Saint Hilda keep her Abbess true ! 680 

Who knows what outrage he might do. 

While journeying by the way ? — 

blessed Saint, if e'er again 

1 venturous leave thy calm domain. 
To travel or by land or main, 

Deep penance may I pay ! — 
Now, saintly Palmer, mark my prayer : 
I give this packet to thy care, 
For thee to stop they will not dare ; 

And ! with cautious speed, 690 

To Wolsey's hand the papers bring. 
That he may show them to the King : 

And, for thy well-earn "d meed, 
Thou holy man, at Whitby's shrine 
A weekly mass shall still be thine. 

While priests can sing and read. — 
What ail'st thou ?— Speak ! ''—For as he took 
Tlie charge, a strong emotion shook 

His frame ; and, ere reply. 



148 MARMION [Canto V. 

They heard a faint yet shrilly tone, 700 

Like distant clarion feebly blown, 

That on the breeze did die ; 
And loud the Abbess shriek'd in fear, 
'' Saint Withold, save us I — AVhat is here ! 

Look at yon City Cross ! 
See on its battled tower appear 
Phantoms that scutcheons seem to rear 

And blazon'd banners toss ! " — 



XXV. 

Dun-Edin's Cross, a pillar'd stone, 

Rose on a turret octagon ; 710 

(But now is razed that monument. 

Whence royal edict rang. 
And voice of Scotland's law was sent 

In glorious trumpet-clang. 
! be his tomb as lead to lead 
Upon its dull destroyer's head ! — 
A minstrel's malison is said.) — 
Then on its battlements they saw 
A vision, passing Naturals law. 

Strange, wild, and dimly seen ; 720 

Figures that seem'd to rise and die. 
Gibber and sign, advance and fly. 
While nought confirmed could ear or eye 

Discern of sound or mien. 
Yet darkly did it seem as there 
Heralds and pursuivants prepare. 
With trumpet sound, and blazon fair, 

A summons to proclaim ; 
But indistinct the pageant proud. 
As fancy forms of midnight cloud, 730 

When flings the moon upon her shroud 

A wavering tinge of flame ; 



Canto V.J THE COURT 149 

It flits, expands, and shifts, till loud. 
From midmost of the spectre crowd. 
This awful summons came : — 



XXVI. 

^' Prince, prelate, potentate, and peer, 

Whose names I now shall call, 
Scottish or foreigner, give ear ! 
Subjects of him who sent me here. 
At his tribunal to appear 740 

I summon one and all : 
I cite you by each deadly sin 
That e'er hath soil'd your hearts within ; 
I cite you by each brutal lust 
That e'er defiled your earthly dust, — 

By wrath, by pride, by fear. 
By each o'er-mastering passion's tone. 
By the dark grave, and dying groan ! 
When forty days are pass'd and gone, 
I cite you at your Monarch's throne 750 

To answer and appear." — 
Then thundered forth a roll of names : — 
The first was thine, unhappy James ! 

Then all thy nobles came ; 
Crawford, Glencairn, Montrose, Argyle, 
Eoss, Bothwell, Forbes, Lennox, Lyle, — 
Why should I tell their separate style ? 

Each chief of birth and fame. 
Of Lowland, Highland, Border, Isle, 
Fore-doom'd to Flodden's carnage pile, 760 

AVas cited there by name ; 
And Marmion, Lord of Fontenaye, 
Of Lutterward, and Scrivelbaye ; 
De Wilton, erst of Aberley, 
The self -same thundering voice did say. — 

But then another spoke : 



150 MARMION [Canto V. 

''Thy fatal summons I deny. 
And thine infernal Lord defy. 
Appealing me to Him on high 

Who burst the sinner^s yoke." 770 

At that dread accent, with a scream. 
Parted the pageant like a dream. 

The summoner was gone. 
Prone on her face the Abbess fell, 
And fast, and fast, her beads did tell ; 
Her nuns came, startled by the yell, 

And found her there alone. 
She marked not, at the scene aghast. 
What time or how the Palmer passed. 

XXVII. 

Shift we the scene. — The camp doth move ; 780 

Dun-Edin^s streets are empty now. 
Save when, for weal of those they love. 

To pray the prayer, and vow the vow. 
The tottering child, the anxious fair. 
The grey-hair'd sire, with pious care. 
To chapels and to shrines repair. — 
Where is the Palmer now ? and where 
The Abbess, Marmion, and Clare ? — 
Bold Douglas I to Tantallon fair 

They journey in thy charge : 790 

Lord Marmion rode on his right hand. 
The Palmer still was with the band ; 
Angus, like Lindesay, did command 

That none should roam at large. 
But in that Palmer's altered mien 
A wondrous change might now be seen ; 

Freely he spoke of war. 
Of marvels wrought by single hand 
When lifted for a native land ; 
And still looked high, as if he planned 800 

Some desperate deed afar. 



Canto v.] THE COURT 151 

His courser would he feed and stroke. 

And, tucking up his sable frocke. 
Would first his metal bold provoke. 

Then soothe or quell his pride. 
Old Hubert said that never one 
He saw, except Lord Marmion, 

A steed so fairly ride. 



XXVIII. 

Some half-hour^s march behind there came. 

By Eustace governed fair, 810 

A troop escorting Hilda^s dame. 

With all her nuns, and Clare. 
No audience had Lord Marmion sought ; 

Ever he fear'd to aggravate 

Clara de Clare's suspicious hate ; 
And safer Hwas, he thought. 

To wait till, from the nuns removed. 

The influence of kinsmen loved. 

And suit by Henry's self approved. 
Her slow consent had wrought. 820 

His was no flickering flame, that dies 

Unless when fanned by looks and sighs. 

And lighted oft at lady's eyes ; 

He long'd to stretch his wide command 

O'er luckless Clara's ample land : 

Besides, when Wilton with him vied. 

Although the pang of humbled pride 

The place of jealousy supplied, 
Yet conquest, by that meanness won 
He almost loath'd to think upon, 830 

Led him, at times, to hate the cause 
Which made him burst through honour's laws. 
If e'er he loved, 'twas her alone 
Who died within that vault of stone. 



152 MARMION [Canto V. \ 

I 

XXIX. ! 

And now, when close at hand they saw .( 
North Berwick^s town, and lofty Law, 

Fitz-Eustace bade them pause a while \ 

Before a venerable pile, ] 

Whose turrets viewM afar j 
The lofty Bass, the Lambie Isle, 840 i 

The ocean^s peace or war. 
At tolling of a bell, forth came 
The convent^s venerable dame. 
And prayed Saint Hilda^s Abbess rest 

With her, a loved and honour^ guest, i 
Till Douglas should a bark prepare 

To waft her back to Whitby fair. J 

Glad was the Abbess, yoa may guess, ! 

And thanked the Scottish Prioress ; , j 
And tedious were to tell, I ween, 850 j 

The courteous speech that pass'd between. - 

Overjoyed the nuns their palfreys leave ; i 

But when fair Clara did intend, i 

Like them, from horseback to descend, ! 

Fitz-Eustace said, — " I grieve, ; 

Fair lady, grieve e'en from my heart, i 

Such gentle company to part ; — 1 

Think not discourtesy, ! 

But lords' commands must be obey'd ; ; 
And Marmion and the Douglas said 860 

That you must wend with me. : 

Lord Marmion hath a letter broad, i 

Which to the Scottish Earl he show'd, - 
Commanding that beneath his care 
Without delay you shall repair 

To your good kinsman. Lord Fitz-Clare.'' J 

XXX. 

The startled Abbess loud exclaim'd ; 
Bat she at whom the blow was aim'd 



CaxtoY.J the court 153 

Grew pale as death, and cold as lead, — 

She deemM she heard her death-doom read. 870 

" Cheer thee, my child ! " the Abbess said, 

" They dare not tear thee from my hand. 

To ride alone with armed band." — 

" Nay, holy mother, nay," 
Fitz-Eustace said, '' the lovely Clare 
Will be in Lady Angus' care. 

In Scotland while we stay ; 
And, when we move, an easy ride 
AVill bring us to the English side. 
Female attendance to provide 880 

Befitting Gloster's heir ; 
Nor thinks, nor dreams, my noble Lord, 
By slightest look, or act, or word. 

To harass Lady Clare. 
Her faithful guardian he will be, 
ISTor sue for slightest courtesy 

That e'en to stranger falls. 
Till he shall place her, safe and free. 

Within her kinsman's halls." 
He spoke, and blush'd with earnest grace ; 890 

His faith was painted on his face. 

And Clare's worst fear relieved. 
The Lady Abbess loud exclaim'd 
On Henry, and the Douglas blamed. 

Entreated, threaten'd, grieved ; 
To martyr, saint, and prophet pray'd. 
Against Lord Marmion inveigh'd. 
And call'd the Prioress to aid, 
To curse with candle, bell, and book. 
Her head the grave Cistertian shook : 900 

^' The Douglas, and the King," she said, 
^' In their commands will be obey'd ; 
Grieve not, nor dream that harm can fall 
The maiden in Tantallon Hall." 



154 MARMION [Canto V. 



XXXI. 

The Abbess, seeing strife was vain, 
Assumed her wonted state again, — 

For much of state she had, — 
Composed her veil, and raised her head, 
And — " Bid," in solemn voice she said, 

'' Thy master, bold and bad, 910 

The records of his house turn o'er, 

And, when he there shall written see 

That one of his own ancestry 

Drove the monks forth of Coventry, 
Bid him his fate explore ! 

Prancing in pride of earthly trust. 

His charger hurl'd him to the dust, 

And, by a base plebeian thrust. 
He died his band before. 

God judge 'twixt Marmion and me ; 920 

He is a chief of high degree. 
And I a poor recluse ; 

Yet oft, in holy writ, we see 

Even such weak minister as me 
May the oppressor bruise : 

For thus, inspired, did Judith slay 
The mighty in his sin. 

And Jael thus, and Deborah " — 
Here hasty Blount broke in : 
" Fitz -Eustace, we must march our band ; 930 

Saint Anton^ fire thee ! wilt thou stand 
All day, with bonnet in thy hand. 

To hear the lady preach ? 
By this good light ! if thus we stay. 
Lord Marmion, for our fond delay, 

Will sharper sermon teach. 
Come, don thy cap, and mount thy horse ; 
The dame must patience take perforce." — ■ 



Canto V.J THE COURT 155 



XXXII. 

" Snbmit we then to force/' said Clare, 

'' But let this barbarous lord despair 940 

His purposed aim to win ; 
Let him take living, land, and life, 
But to be Marmion's wedded wife 

In me were deadly sin : 
And if it be the King's decree 
That I must find no sanctuary 
In that inviolable dome 
Where even a homicide might come, 

And safely rest his head. 
Though at its open portals stood, 950 

Thirsting to pour forth blood for blood, 

The kinsmen of the dead, — 
Yet one asylum is my own 

Against the dreaded hour ; 
A low, a silent, and a lone. 

Where kings have little power. 
One victim is before me there. — 
Mother, your blessing, and in prayer 
Remember your unhappy Clare ! "' 
Loud weeps the Abbess, and bestows 960 

Kind blessings many a one : 
Weeping and wailing loud arose. 
Round patient Clare, the clamorous woes 

Of every simple nun. 
His eyes the gentle Eustace dried. 
And scarce rude Blount the sight could bide. 

Then took the squire her rein. 
And gently led away her steed. 
And, by each courteous word and deed, 

To cheer her strove in vain. 970 



156 MARMION [CaktoV. 



XXXIII. 

But scant three miles the band had rode. 

When o'er a height they pass'd, 
And, sudden, close before them showed 

His towers Tantallon vast ; 
Broad, massive, high, and stretching far. 
And held impregnable in war. 
On a projecting rock they rose, 
And round three sides the ocean flows. 
The fourth did battled walls enclose. 

And double mound and fosse. 980 

By narrow drawbridge, outworks strong. 
Through studded gates, an entrance long. 

To the main court they cross. 
It was a wide and stately square : 
Around were lodgings, fit and fair. 

And towers of various form. 
Which on the court projected far. 
And broke its lines quadrangular. 
Here was square keep, there turret high. 
Or ]iinnacle that sought the sky, 990 

Whence oft the warder could descry 

The gathering ocean-storm. 



XXXIV. 

Here did they rest. — The princely care \ 

Of Douglas why should I declare^ 
Or say they met reception fair ? 

Or why the tidings say. 
Which varying to Tantallon came. 
By hurrying posts, or fleeter fame. 

With every varying day ? 
And, first, they heard King James had won 1000 ^ 

Etall, and Wark, and Ford ; and then, \ 

That Norham Castle strong was ta'en. J 



Canto V.J THE COURT 157 

At that sore marveird Marmion ; — 
And Douglas hoped his Monarches hand 
Would soon subdue Northumberland : 

But whispered news there came. 
That, while his host inactive lay. 
And melted by degrees away, 
King James was dallying off the day 

With Heron^s wily dame. — 1010 

Such acts to chronicles I yield ; 

Go seek them there, and see : 
Mine is a tale of Flodden Field, 

And not a history. — 
At length they heard the Scottish host 
On that high ridge had made their post 

Which frowns o'er Millfield Plain ; 
And that brave Surrey many a band 
Had gathered in the Southern land. 
And marched into I^orthumberland, 1020 

And camp at Wooler ta^en. 
Marmion, like charger in the stall. 
That hears, without, the trumpet-call. 

Began to chafe, and swear : — 
" A sorry thing to hide my head 
In castle, like a fearful maid. 

When such a field is near ! 
Needs must I see this battle-day : 
Death to my fame if such a fray 
Were fought, and Marmion away ! 1030 

The Douglas, too, I wot not why. 
Hath 'bated of his courtesy : 
No longer in his halls Til stay.'" 
Then bade his band they should array 
For march against the dawning day. 



INTEODUCTION TO CANTO SIXTH. 



TO RICHARD HEBER, ESQ. 

Mertoun- House ^ Christmas. 

Heap on more wood ! — the wind is chill ; 

But let it whistle as it will. 

We'll keep our Christmas merry still. 

Each age has deem'd the new-born year 

The fittest time for festal cheer : 

Even, heathen yet, the savage Dane 

At lol more deep the mead did drain ; 

High on the beach his galleys drew. 

And feasted all his pirate crew ; 

Then in his low and pine-built hall, 10 

Where shields and axes deck'd the Avail, 

They gorged upon the half-dress'd steer ; 

Caroused in seas of sable beer ; 

While round, in brutal jest, were thrown 

The half-gnaw'd rib, and marrow-bone. 

Or listened all, in grim delight, 

While scalds yelFd out the joys of fight. 

Then forth in frenzy would they hie. 

While wildly loose their red locks fly, 

And dancing round the blazing pile, 20 

They make such barbarous mirth the while. 

As best might to the mind recall 

The boisterous joys of Odin's hall. 

And well our Christian sires of old 
Loved when the year its course had rolFd, 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SIXTH 159 

And brought blithe Christmas back again. 

With all his hospitable train. 

Domestic and religious rite 

Gave honour to the holy night ; 

On Christmas eve the bells were rung ; 30 

On Christmas eve the mass was sung : 

That only night in all the year 

Saw the stoled priest the chalice rear. 

The damsel donn'd her kirtle sheen ; 

The hall was dress'd with holly green ; 

Forth to the wood did merry-men go, 

To gather in the mistletoe. 

Then open'd wide the baron^s hall 

To vassal, tenant, serf, and all ; 

Power laid his rod of rule aside, 40 

And Ceremony doff'd his pride. 

The heir, with roses in his shoes, 

That night might village partner choose ; 

The Lord, underogating, share 

The vulgar game of ^' post and pair.'^ 

All hail'd, with uncontroll'd delight. 

And general voice, the happy night 

That to the cottage, as the crown. 

Brought tidings of salvation down. 



The fire, with well-dried logs supplied, 50 

Went roaring up the chimney wide : 
The huge hall-table's oaken face. 
Scrubbed till it shone, the day to grace. 
Bore then upon its massive board 
No mark to part the squire and lord. 
Then was brought in the lusty brawn, 
By old blue-coated serving-man ; 
Then the grim boar's head frown'd on high. 
Crested with bays and rosemary. 
Well can the green-garb'd ranger tell 60 

How, when, and where, the moiister fell ; 



160 MARMION 

AVhat dogs before his death he tore. 

And all the baiting of the boar. 

The wassel round, in good brown bowls 

Garnish'd with ribbons, blithely trowls. 

There the huge sirloin reekM ; hard by 

Plum-porridge stood, and Christmas pie ; 

Nor faird old Scotland to produce, 

At such high tide, her savoury goose. 

Then came the merry maskers in, 70 

And carols roared with blithesome din ; 

If unmelodious was the song. 

It was a hearty note, and strong. 

Who lists may in their mumming see 

Traces of ancient mystery ; 

White shirts supplied the masquerade. 

And smutted cheeks the visors made ; 

But, ! what maskers, richly dight, 

Can boast of bosoms half so light ! 

England was merry England, when 80 

Old Christmas brought his sjoorts again. 

^Twas Christmas broached the mightiest ale ; 

'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale ; 

A Christmas gambol oft could cheer 

The poor man^s heart through half the year. 

Still linger, in our northern clime. 
Some remnants of the good old time ; 
And still, within our valleys here. 
We hold the kindred title dear. 
Even when, perchance, its far-fetched claim 90 

To Southron ear sounds empty name ; 
For course of blood, our proverbs deem. 
Is warmer than the mountain-stream. 
And thus my Christmas still I hold 
Where my great-grandsire came of old. 
With amber beard, and flaxen hair. 
And reverend apostolic air. 
The feast and holy-tide to share. 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SIXTH 161 

And mix sobriety with wine, 

And honest mirth with thoughts divine : 100 

Small thought was his, in after time 

E^er to be hitched into a rhyme. 

The simple sire could only boast 

That he was loyal to his cost ; 

The banish 'd race of kings revered, 

And lost his land, — but kept his beard. 

In these dear halls, where welcome kind 
Is with fair liberty combined. 
Where cordial friendship gives the hand. 
And flies constraint the magic wand 110 

Of the fair dame that rules the land. 
Little we heed the tempest drear, 
While music, mirth, and social cheer 
Speed on their wings the passing year. 
And Mertoun^s halls are fair e'en now. 
When not a leaf is on the bough. 
Tweed loves them well, and turns again. 
As loth to leave the sweet domain. 
And holds his mirror to her face. 
And clips her with a close embrace : — 120 

Gladly as he we seek the dome. 
And as reluctant turn ns home. 

How Just that, at this time of glee, 
My thoughts should, Heber, turn to thee ! 
For many a merry hour we've known, 
And heard the chimes of midnight's tone. 
Cease, then, my friend ! a moment cease. 
And leave these classic tomes in peace ! 
Of Roman and of Grecian lore 

Sure mortal brain can hold no more. 130 

These ancients, as Noll Bluff might say, 
'' Were pretty fellows in their day ; " 
But time and tide o'er all prevail — 
On Christmas eve a Christmas tale — 



162 M ARM I ON 

Of wonder and of war — " Profane ! 

What ! leave the lofty Latian strain. 

Her stately prose^ her verse's charms, 

To hear the clash of rusty arms : 

In Fairy Land or Limbo lost. 

To jostle conjurer and ghost, 140 

Goblin and witch \" — Nay, Heber dear. 

Before you touch my charter, hear ; 

Though Leyden aids, alas ! no more. 

My cause with many-languaged lore. 

This may I say : — in realms of death 

Ulysses meets Alcides' 'wraitli; 

^neas, upon Thracia's shore. 

The ghost of murder'd Polydore ; 

For omens, we in Livy cross. 

At every turn, locutus Bos. 150 

As grave and duly speaks that ox. 

As if he told the price of stocks ; 

Or held, in Rome republican. 

The place of Common-councilman. 

All nations have their omens drear. 
Their legends wild of woe and fear. 
To Cambria look — the peasant see 
Bethink him of Glendowerdy, 
And shun " the Spirit's Blasted Tree." 
The Highlander, whose red claymore 160 

The battle turned on Maida's shore. 
Will, on a Friday morn, look pale. 
If ask'd to tell a fairy tale : 
He fears the vengeful Elfin King, 
Who leaves that day his grassy ring : 
Invisible to human ken, 
He walks among the sons of men. 

Did'st e'er, dear Heber, pass along 
Beneath the towers of Franchemont, 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SIXTH 163 

AVliich, like an eagle's nest in air, 170 

Hang o'er the stream and hamlet fair ? 

Deep in their vaults, the peasants say, 

A mighty treasure buried lay, 

Amassed through rapine and through wrong 

By the last Lord of Franchemont. 

The iron chest is bolted hard, 

A huntsman sits its constant guard ; 

Around his neck his horn is hung. 

His hanger in his belt is slung ; 

Before his feet his blood-hounds lie : 180 

An 'twere not for his gloomy eye. 

Whose withering glance no heart can brook. 

As true a huntsman doth he look 

As bugle e'er in brake did sound. 

Or ever hoUow'd to a hound. 

To chase the fiend, and Avin the prize. 

In that same dungeon ever tries 

An aged Necromantic Priest ; 

It is an hundred years at least 

Since 'twixt them first the strife begun, 190 

And neither yet has lost or won. 

And oft the Conjurer's words will make 

The stubborn Demon groan and quake ; 

And oft the bands of iron break. 

Or bursts one lock, that still amain, 

Fast as 'tis open'd, shuts again. 

That magic strife within the tomb 

May last until the day of doom, 

Unless the Adept shall learn to tell 

The very word that clench'd the spell, 200 

When Franch'mont lock'd the treasure cell. 

An hundred years are pass'd and gone, 

And scarce three letters has he won. 



Such general superstition may 
Excuse for old Pitscottie say. 



lG4r MAIiMlON 

Whose gossip history has given 

My song the messenger from Heaven, 

Tliat wiirnM, in Lithgow, Scothmd's King, 

Nor less the inferniil summoning ; 

May pass tlie Monk of Durham's tale, 210 

Whose Demon fought in Gothic mail ; 

May pardon plead for Fordun grave, 

AVho told of Gilford's Goblin-cave. 

But why such instances to you, 

Who, in an instant, can renew 

Your treasured hoards of various lore. 

And furnish twenty thousand more ? 

Hoards, not like theirs whose volumes rest 

Like treasures in the Franch'mont chest. 

While gripple owners still refuse 220 

To others what they cannot use ; 

Give them the Priest's whole century. 

They shall not spell you letters three ; 

Their pleasure in the books the same 

The magpie takes in pilfered gem. 

Thy volumes, open as thy heart, 

Delight, amusement, science, art. 

To every ear and eye impart ; 

Yet who, of all who thus employ them. 

Can like the owner's self enjoy them ? — 230 

But hark ! T hear the distant drum ! 

The day of Flodden Field is come. — 

Adieu, dear Ileber ! life and health. 

And store of literary wealth. 



CANTO SIXTH. 

THE BATTLE. 

I. 

While great events were on the gale, 

And each hour brought a varying tale, 

And the demeanour, changed and cold. 

Of Douglas fretted Marmion bold. 

And, like the impatient steed of war, 

He snuff'd the battle from afar ; 

And hopes were none that back again 

Herald should come from Terouenne, 

AVhere England's King in leaguer lay, 

Before decisive battle-day, — 10 

Wliile these things were, the mournful Clare 

Did in the dame's devotions share : 

For the good Countess ceaseless pray'd 

To Heaven and Saints, her sons to aid. 

And with short interval did pass 

From prayer to book, from book to mass. 

And all in high baronial pride, — 

A life both dull and dignified ; — 

Yet as Lord Marmion nothing pressed 

Upon her intervals of rest, 20 

Dejected Clara well could bear 

The formal state, the lengthened prayer. 

Though dearest to her wounded lieart 

The hours that she might spend apart. 

II. 

I said Tantallon's dizzy steep 
Hung o'er the margin of the deep. 



166 MARMION [Canto VI. 

Many a rude tower and rampart there 

Repeird the insult of the air, 

Which, when the tempest vex'd the sky. 

Half breeze, half spray, came whistling by. 30 

Above the rest, a turret square 

Did o'er its Gothic entrance bear. 

Of sculpture rude, a stony shield ; 

The Bloody Heart was in the field, 

And in the chief three mullets stood. 

The cognizance of Douglas blood. 

The turret held a narrow stair, 

Which, mounted, gave you access where 

A parapet's embattled row 

Did seaward round the castle go. 40 

Sometimes in dizzy steps descending. 

Sometimes in narrow circuit bending. 

Sometimes in platform broad extending, 

Its varying circle did combine 

Bulwark, and bartizan, and line. 

And bastion, tower, and vantage-coign : 

Above the booming ocean leant 

The far-projecting battlement ; 

The billows burst in ceaseless flow 

Upon the precipice below. 50 

Where'er Tantallon faced the land 

Gate-works, and walls, were strongly manned ; 

No need upon the sea-girt side ; 

The steepy rock, and frantic tide. 

Approach of human step denied ; 

And thus these lines, and ramparts rude. 

Were left in deepest solitude. 

III. 

And, for they were so lonely, Clare 
Would to these battlements repair. 
And muse upon her sorrows there, 60 

And list the sea-bird's cry ; 



Canto VI.] THE BATTLE 167 

Or slow, like noontide ghost, would glide 
Along the dark -grey bulwarks" side. 
And ever on the heaving tide 

Look down with weary eye. 
Oft did the cliff, and swelling main. 
Recall the thoughts of Whitby's fane, — 
A home she ne'er might see again ; 

For she had laid adown. 
So Douglas bade, the hood and veil, 70 

And frontlet of the cloister pale. 

And Benedictine gown : 
It were unseemly sight, he said, 
A novice out of convent shade. — 
Now her bright locks, with sunny glow. 
Again adorn'd her brow of snow ; 
Her mantle rich, whose borders round 
A deep and fretted broidery bound. 
In golden foldings sought the ground ; 
Of holy ornament, alone 80 

Remained a cross with ruby stone ; 

And often did she look 
On that which in her hand she bore, 
With velvet bound, and broider'd o'er. 

Her breviary book. 
In such a place, so lone, so grim. 
At dawning pale, or twilight dim. 

It fearful would have been 
To meet a form so richly dress'd. 
With book in hand, and cross on breast, 90 

And such a woeful mien. 
Fitz-Eustace, loitering with his bow. 
To practise on the gull and crow. 
Saw her at distance, gliding slow. 

And did by Mary swear. 
Some love-lorn fay she might have been. 
Or, in romance, some spell-bound queen ; 
For ne'er in work-day world was seen 

A form so witching fair. 



168 MARMION [Canto VI. 

IV. 

Once walking thus at evening tide, 100 

It chanced a gliding sail she spied, 

And, sighing, thought — '' The Abbess there. 

Perchance, does to her home repair ; 

Her peaceful rule, where Duty free 

Walks hand in hand with Charity ; 

Where oft Devotion's tranced glow 

Can such a glimpse of heaven bestow. 

That the enraptured sisters see 

High vision, and deep mystery ; 

The very form of Hilda fair, 110 

Hovering upon the sunny air. 

And smiling on her votaries' prayer. 

! wherefore, to my duller eye. 

Did still the Saint her form deny ? 

Was it that, sear'd by sinful scorn. 

My heart could neither melt nor burn ? 

Or lie my warm affections low. 

With him that taught them first to glow ? 

Yet, gentle Abbess, well I knew 

To pay thy kindness grateful due, 120 

And well could brook the mild command 

That ruled thy simple maiden band. 

How different now ! condemned to bide 

My doom from this dark tyrant's pride. — 

But Marmion has to learn ere long 

That constant mind, and hate of wrong. 

Descended to a feeble girl 

From Red De Clare, stout Gloster's Earl : 

Of such a stem a sapling weak 

He ne'er shall bend, although he break. 130 

V. 

'^But see ! — what makes this armour here ?" — 

For in her path there lay 
Targe, corslet, helm ; — slie view'd them near. — 



Canto VI.J THE BATTLE 169 

^' The breast-plate pierced I — Ay, much I fear, 
Weak fence wert thou Against foeman's spear. 
That hath made fatal entrance here. 

As these dark blood-gouts say. — 
Thus Wilton I — Oh I not corslet's ward, 
Not truth, as diamond pure and hard. 
Could be thy manly bosom's guard 140 

On yon disastrous day ! '' — 
She raised her eyes in mournful mood, — 
Wilton himself before her stood ! 
It might have seem'd his passing ghost. 
For every youthful grace was lost ; 
And joy unwonted, and surprise. 
Gave their strange wildness to his eyes. — 
Expect not, noble dames and lords. 
That I can tell such scene in words : 
What skilful limner e'er would choose 150 

To paint the rainbow's varying hues. 
Unless to mortal it were given 
To dip his brush in dyes of heaven ? 
Far less can my weak line declare 

Each changing passion's shade ; 
Brightening to rapture from despair, 
Sorrow, surprise, and pity there. 
And joy with her angelic air. 
And hope that paints the future fair. 

Their varying hues display'd : 160 

Each o'er its rival's ground extending. 
Alternate conquering, shifting, blending. 
Till all, fatigued, the conflict yield. 
And mighty Love retains the field. 
Shortly I tell what then he said. 
By many a tender w^ord delay'd, 
And modest blush, and bursting sigh. 
And question kind, and fond reply : — 



170 MAUMION [Canto VI. 

VI. 

ft Wlton's fistorg. 

^' Forget we that disastrous day 

When senseless in the lists I lay. 170 

Thence dragged, — but how I cannot know. 
For sense and recollection fled, — 

I found me on a pallet low, 

Within my ancient beadsman^s shed. 

Austin, — remember'st thou, my Clare, 
How thou didst blush when the old man. 
When first our infant love began, 

Said we would make a matchless pair ? — 
Menials, and friends, and kinsmen fled 
From the degraded traitor's bed, — 180 

He only held my burning head. 
And tended me for many a day, 
While wounds and fever held their sway. 
But far more needful was his care 
When sense returned to wake despair ; 

For I did tear the closing wound. 

And dash me frantic on the ground. 
If e'er I heard the name of Clare. 
At length, to calmer reason brought, 
Much by his kind attendance wrought, 190 

With him I left my native strand. 
And, in a palmer's weeds array 'd. 
My hated name and form to shade, 

I journey'd many a land ; 
No more a lord of rank and birth, 
But mingled with the dregs of earth. 

Oft Austin for my reason fear'd. 
When I would sit, and deeply brood 
On dark revenge, and deeds of blood. 

Or wild mad schemes uprear'd. 200 

My friend at length fell sick, and said 

God would remove him soon : 



Canto VI.] THE BATTLE 171 

And, while upon his dying bed. 

He begged of me a boon — 
If e'er my deadliest enemy 
Beneath my brand should conquered lie. 
Even then my mercy should awake. 
And spare his life for Austin's sake. 

VII. 

^* Still restless as a second Cain, 

To Scotland next my route was ta'en, 210 

Full well the paths I knew. 
Fame of my fate made various sound. 
That death in pilgrimage I found, 
That I had perish'd of my wound, — 

None cared wiiich tale was true : 
And living eye could never guess 
De Wilton in his palmer's dress ; 
For now that sable slough is shed, 
And trimm'd my shaggy beard and head, 
I scarcely know me in the glass. 220 

A chance most wondrous did provide 
That I should be that Baron's guide — 

I will not name his name ! — 
Vengeance to God alone belongs ; 
But, when I think on all my w^rongs. 

My blood is liquid flame ! 
And ne'er the time shall I forget 
When, in a Scottish hostel set. 

Dark looks we did exchange : 
What were his thoughts I cannot tell ; 230 

But in my bosom muster'd Hell 

Its plans of dark revenge. 

VIII. 

^' A word of vulgar augury 
That broke from me, I scarce knew why. 
Brought on a village tale. 



172 MARMION [Canto VI. 

Which wrought upon his moody sprite, 
And sent him armed forth by night. 

I borrowed steed, and mail. 
And weapons from his sleeping band ; 

And, passing from a postern door, 240 

We met, and ^counter^d, hand to hand, — 

He fell on Gifford-moor. 
For the death-stroke my brand I drew, 
(0 then my helmed head he knew, 

The palmer's cowl was gone,) 
Then had three inches of my blade 
The heavy debt of vengeance paid, — 
My hand the thought of Austin staid ; 

I left him there alone. — 
good old man ! even from the grave, 250 

Thy spirit could thy master save : 
If I had slain my foeman, ne'er 
Had Whitby's Abbess, in her fear. 
Given to my hand this packet dear. 
Of power to clear my injured fame. 
And vindicate De Wilton's name. — 
Perchance you heard the Abbess tell 
Of the strange pageantry of Hell 

That broke our secret speech — 
It rose from the infernal shade, 260 

Or featly was some juggle play'd, 

A tale of peace to teach. 
Appeal to Heaven I judged was best. 
When my name came among the rest. 

IX. 

'' Now here within Tantallon Hold, 

To Douglas late my tale I told. 

To whom my house was known of old. 

Won by my proofs, his falchion bright 

This eve anew shall dub me knight. 

These were the arms that once did turn 270 

The tide of fight on Otterburne, 



Canto VI.] THE BATTLE 173 

And Harry Hotspur forced to yield. 

When the Dead Douglas won the field. 

These Angus gave — his armourer's care. 

Ere morn, shall every breach repair ; 

For nought, he said, was in his halls. 

But ancient armour on the walls, 

And aged chargers in the stalls. 

And women, priests, and grey-hair'd men ; 

The rest were all in Twisel glen. 280 

And now I watch my armour here. 

By law of arms, till midnight's near ; 

Then, once again a belted knight, 

Seek Surrey's camp with dawn of light. 



" There soon again we meet, my Clare ! 

This Baron means to guide thee there : 

Douglas reveres his King's command. 

Else would he take thee from his band. 

And there thy kinsman Surrey, too. 

Will give De Wilton justice due. 290 

Now meeter far for martial broil, 

Firmer my limbs, and strung by toil. 

Once more " — " Wilton ! must we then 

Eisk new-found happiness again. 

Trust fate of arms once more ? 
And is there not an humble glen. 

Where we, content and poor, 
Might build a cottage in the shade, 
A shepherd thou, and I to aid 

Thy task on dale and moor ? 300 

That reddening brow ! — too well I know 
Not even thy Clare can peace bestow 

While falsehood stains thy name : 
Go then to fight ! Clare bids thee go ! 
Clare can a warrior's feelings know. 

And weep a warrior's shame ; 



174 MAUMION [Canto VI. 

Can Red Earl Gilbert's spirit feel, 
•Buckle the spurs upon thy heel. 
And belt thee with thy brand of steel, 
And send thee forth to fame ! " 310 



XL 

That night upon the rocks and bay 
The midnight moonbeam slumbering lay. 
And pour'd its silver light and pure 
Through loophole, and through embrasure. 

Upon Tantallon tower and hall ; 
But chief where arched windows wide 
Illuminate the chapel's pride. 

The sober glances fall. 
Much was there need ; though seam'd with scars. 
Two veterans of the Douglas' wars, 320 

Though two grey priests were there. 
And each a blazing torch held high, 
You could not by their blaze descry 

The chapel's carving fair. 
Amid that dim and smoky light. 
Chequering the silvery moonshine bright, 

A Bishop by the altar stood, 

A noble lord of Douglas blood. 
With mitre sheen, and rocquet white. 
Yet show'd his meek and thoughtful eye 330 

But little pride of prelacy ; 
More pleased that, in a barbarous age. 
He gave rude Scotland Virgil's page. 
Than that beneath his rule he held 
The bishopric of fair Dunkeld. 
Beside him ancient Angus stood, 
Doff'd his furr'd gown, and sable hood : 
O'er his huge form and visage pale 
He wore a cap and shirt of mail ; 
And lean'd his large and wrinkled hand 340 

Upon the huge and sweeping brand 



Canto VI.] THE BATTLE 175 

Which wont of yore, in battle fray, 
His foeman's limbs to shred away. 
As wood-knife lops the sapling spray. 
He seem'd as, from the tombs around 

Rising at judgment-day. 
Some giant Douglas may be found 
In all his old array ; 
So pale his face, so huge his limb, 
So old his arms, his look so grim. 350 

XII. 

Then at the altar Wilton kneels, 
And Clare the spurs bound on his heels ; 
And think what next he must have felt 
At buckling of the falchion belt ! 

And judge how Clara changed her hue. 
While fastening to her lover's side 
A friend, which, though in danger tried. 

He once had found untrue ! 
Then Douglas struck him with his blade : 
" Saint Michael and Saint Andrew aid, 360 

I dub thee knight. 
Arise, Sir Ralph, De Wilton's heir ! 
For king, for church, for lady fair. 

See that thou fight.''— 
And Bishop Gawain, as he rose. 
Said — " Wilton ! grieve not for thy woes. 

Disgrace, and trouble ; 
For He who honour best bestows 

May give thee double." — 
De Wilton sobb'd, for sob he must — 370 

" Where'er I meet a Douglas, trust 

That Douglas is my brother ! " 
" Nay, nay," old Angus said, '' not so ; 
To Surrey's camp thou now must go. 

Thy wrongs no longer smother. 
I have two sons in yonder field ; 
And, if thou meet'st them under shield. 



176 MARMION [Caa-to VI. 

Upon them bravely — do tliy worst ; 
And foul fall him that blenches first ! '' 

XIII. 

Not far advanced was morning day, 380 

When Marmion did his troop array 

To Surrey^s camp to ride ; 
lie had safe-condnct for his band. 
Beneath the royal seal and hand, 

And Douglas gave a guide : 
The ancient Earl, with stately grace. 
Would Clara on her palfrey place. 
And whisper'd in an undertone, 
^' Let the hawk stoop, his prey is flown." — 
The train from out the castle drew, 390 

But Marmion stopped to bid adieu : — 

" Though something I miglit plain," he said, 
*' Of cold respect to stranger guest. 
Sent hither by your King's behest. 

While in Tantallon's towers I staid. 
Part we in friendship from your land. 
And, noble Earl, receive my hand." — 
But Douglas round him drew his cloak. 
Folded his arms, and thus he spoke : — 
'' My manors, halls, and bowers shall still 400 

Be open at my Sovereign's will 
To each one whom he lists, howe'er 
Unmeet to be the owner's peer. 
My castles are my King's alone, 
From turret to foundation-stone — 
The hand of Douglas is his own ; 
And never shall in friendly grasp 
The hand of such as Marmion clasp." — 

XIV. 

Burn'd Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire, 

And shook his very frame for ire, 410 



Canto VI.] TtlE BATTLE 177 

And— ^^ This to me ! " he said, 
'^ And 'twere not for thy hoary beard. 
Such hand as Marmion's had not spared 

To cleave the Douglas' head ! 
And first I tell thee, haughty Peer, 
He who does England's message here. 
Although the meanest in her state. 
May well, proud Angus, be thy mate ; 
And, Douglas, more I tell thee here. 

Even in thy pitch of pride, 420 

Here in thy hold, thy vassals near, 
(Nay, never look upon your lord. 
And lay your hands upon your sword,) 

I tell thee, thou'rt defied ! 
And if thou said'st I am not peer 
To any lord in Scotland here. 
Lowland or Highland, far or near. 

Lord Angus, thou hast lied ! " — 
On the Earl's cheek the flush of rage 
O'ercame the ashen hue of age : 430 

Fierce he broke forth, — "^ And darest thou then 
To beard the lion in his den. 

The Douglas in his hall ? 
And hopest thou hence unscathed to go ? — 
No, by Saint Bride of Bothwell, no ! 
Up drawbridge, grooms — what, warder, ho ! 

Let the portcullis fall." — 
Lord Marmion turn'd, — well was his need, — 
And dash'd the rowels in his steed. 
Like arrow through the archway sprung, 440 

The ponderous grate behind him rung ; 
To pass there was such scanty room, 
The bars, descending, razed his plume. 



XV. 



The steed along the drawbridge flies, 
Just as it trembled on the rise ; 



178 MABMION [Canto VI. 

Not lighter does the swallow skim 

Along the smooth lake's level brim : 

And when Lord Marmion reach'd his band. 

He halts, and turns with clenched hand, 

And shout of loud defiance pours, 450 

And shook his gauntlet at the towers. 

" Horse ! horse ! " the Douglas cried, ''and chase ! '' 

But soon he rein'd his fury's pace : 

" A royal messenger he came, 

Though most unAvorthy of the name. — 

A letter forged ! Saint Jude to speed ! 

Did ever knight so foul a deed ? 

At first in heart it liked me ill. 

When the King praised his clerkly skill. 

Thanks to Saint Bothan, son of mine, 460 

Save Gawain, ne'er could pen a line : 

So swore I, and I swear it still. 

Let my boy-bishop fret his fill. — 

Saint Mary mend my fiery mood ! 

Old age ne'er cools the Douglas blood, 

I thought to slay him where he stood. 

'Tis pity of him too," he cried : 

'' Bold can he speak, and fairly ride, 

I warrant him a warrior tried." 

With this his mandate he recalls, 470 

And slowly seeks his castle halls. 

XVI. 

The day in Marmion's journey wore ; 

Yet, e'er his passion's gust was o'er. 

They cross'd the heights of Stanrig-moor. 

His troop more closely there he scann'd. 

And miss'd the Palmer from the band. — 

" Palmer or not," young Blount did say, 

'^ He parted at the peep of day ; 

Good sooth, it was in strange array." — 

" In what array ? " said Marmion, quick. 480 

" My lord, I ill can spell the trick ; 



Canto VI.] TBE BATTLE 179 

But all night long, with clink and bang, 

Close to my couch did hammers clang ; 

At dawn the falling drawbridge rang, 

And from a loophole while I peep. 

Old Bell-the-Cat came from the keep, 

Wrapped in a gown of sables fair. 

As fearful of the morning air ; 

Beneath, when that was blown aside, 

A rusty shirt of mail I spied, 490 

By Archibald won in bloody work 

Against the Saracen and Turk : 

Last night it hung not in the hall ; 

I thought some marvel would befall. 

And next I saw them saddled lead 

Old Cheviot forth, the Earl's best steed ; 

A matchless horse, though something old. 

Prompt to his paces, cool and bold. 

I heard the Sheriff Sholto say. 

The Earl did much the Master pray 500 

To use him on the battle-day ; 

But he preferred " " Nay, Henry, cease ! 

Thou sworn horse-courser, hold thy peace. — 
Eustace, thou bear'st a brain — I pray, 
What did Blount see at break of day ? " 

XVII. 

" In brief, my lord, we both descried 
(For then I stood by Henry's side) 
The Palmer mount, and outwards ride. 

Upon the Earl's own favourite steed : 
All sheathed he was in armour bright, 510 

And much resembled that same knight 
Subdued by you in Cotswold fight : 

Lord Angus wish'd him speed." — 
The instant that Fitz-Eustace spoke, 
A sudden light on Marmion broke ; — 
" Ah ! dastard fool, to reason lost ! " 
He mutter'd ; " 'Twas nor fay nor ghost 



ISO MARMION [Canto VI. 

I met upon the moonlight woh]. 
But living man of earthly mould. — 

dotage blind and gross ! 520 

Had I but fought as wont, one thrust 
Had laid De "Wilton in the dust. 

My path no more to cross. — 
How stand we now ? — he told his tale 
To Douglas, and with some avail ; 

^Twas therefore gloomed his rugged brow. — 
Will Surrey dare to entertain, 
'Gainst Marmion, charge disproved and vain ? 

Small risk of that, I trow. 
Yet Clare's sharp questions must I shun ; 530 

Must separate Constance from the nun — 
0, what a tangled web we weave, 
When first we practise to deceive ! 
A Palmer too I — no wonder why 
I felt rebuked beneath his eye : 
I might have known there was but one 
Whose look could quell Lord Marmion.'' 

XVIII. 

Stung with these thoughts, he urged to speed 
His troop, and reached at eve the Tweed, 
Where LenneFs convent closed their march ; 540 
(There now is left but one frail arch. 

Yet mourn thou not its cells ; 
Our time a fair exchange has made ; 
Hard by, in hospitable shade, 

A reverend pilgrim dwells. 
Well worth the whole Bernardine brood. 
That e'er wore sandal, frock, or hood.) 
Yet did Saint Bernard's Abbot there 
Give Marmion entertainment fair. 
And lodging for his train and Clare. 550 

Next morn the Baron climb'd the tower. 
To view afar the Scottish power, 

Encamp'd on Flodden edge : 



Canto VI. ] THE BATTLE 181 

The white pavilions made a show. 
Like remnants of the winter snow. 

Along the dusky ridge. 
Long Marmion looked : — at length his eye 
Unusual movement might descry 

Amid the shifting lines : 
The Scottish host drawn out appears, 560 

For, flashing on the hedge of spears, 

The eastern sunbeam shines. 
Their front now deepening, now extending, 
Their flank inclining, wheeling, bending, 
Now drawing back, and now descending. 
The skilful Marmion well could know 
They watched the motions of some foe 
Who traversed on the plain below. 

XIX. 

Even so it was. From Flodden ridge 

The Scots beheld the English host 570 

Leave Barmore-wood, their evening post. 

And heedful watched them as they cross'd 
The Till by Twisel Bridge. 

High sight it is, and haughty, while 

They dive into the deep defile ; 

Beneath the cavern'd cliff they fall. 

Beneath the castle^'s airy wall. 
By rock, by oak, by hawthorn-tree. 

Troop after troop are disappearing ; 

Troop after troop their banners rearing 580 

Upon the eastern bank you see. 
Still pouring down the rocky den 

Where flows the sullen Till, 
And rising from the dim-wood glen, 
Standards on standards, men on men. 

In slow succession still. 
And sweeping o^er the Gothic arch, 
And pressing on, in ceaseless march. 

To gain the opposing hill. 



182 MARMION [Canto VI. 

That morn, to many a trumpet clang, 590 

Twisel ! thy rock's deep echo rang ; 

And many a chief of birth and rank. 

Saint Helen ! at thy fountain drank. 

Thy hawthorn glade, which now we see 

In spring-tide bloom so lavishly. 

Had then from many an axe its doom. 

To give the marching columns room. 

XX. 

And why stands Scotland idly now. 

Dark Flodden ! on thy airy brow. 

Since England gains the pass the while, 600 

And struggles through the deep defile ? 

What checks the fiery soul of James ? 

Why sits that champion of the dames 

Inactive on his steed, 
And sees, between him and his land. 
Between him and Tweed's southern strand. 

His host Lord Surrey lead ? 
What vails the vain knight-errant's brand ? — 
Douglas, for thy leading wand ! 

Fierce Randolph, for thy speed ! 610 

for one hour of Wallace wight, 
Or well-skiird Bruce, to rule the fight. 
And cry — '^ Saint Andrew and our right ! '* 
Another sight had seen that morn. 
From Fate's dark book a leaf been torn, 
And Flodden had been Bannockbourne ! — 
The precious hour has pass'd in vain. 
And England's host has gain'd the plain ; 
Wheeling their march, and circling still. 
Around the base of Flodden hill. 620 

XXI. 

Ere yet the bands met Marmion's eye, 
Fitz-Eustace shouted loud and high. 



Canto VI.] THE BATTLE 183 

" Hark ! hark ! my lord, an English drum : 
And see ascending squadrons come 

Between Tweed^s river and the hill. 
Foot, horse, and cannon : — hap what hap. 
My basnet to a prentice cap. 

Lord Surrey^s o'er the Till ! — 
Yet more ! yet more I — how fair arrayed 
They file from out the hawthorn shade, 630 

And sweep so gallant by ! 
With all their banners bravely spread. 

And all their armour flashing high. 
Saint George might waken from the dead. 

To see fair England's standards fly/' — 
'' Stint in thy prate," quoth Blount, " thou'dst best. 
And listen to our lord's behest." — 
With kindling brow Lord Marmion said, — 
*' This instant be our band array'd ; 
The river must be quickly cross'd, 640 

That we may join Lord Surrey's host. 
If fight King James, — as well I trust 
That fight he will, and fight he must, — 
The Lady Clare behind our lines 
Shall tarry while the battle joins." 

XXIL 

Himself he swift on horseback threw. 

Scarce to the Abbot bade adieu ; 

Far less would listen to his prayer. 

To leave behind the helpless Clare. 

Down to the Tweed his band he drew, 650 

And mutter'd as the flood they view, 

'' The pheasant in the falcon's claw. 

He scarce will yield to please a daw : 

Lord Angus may the Abbot awe. 

So Clare shall bide with me." 
Then on that dangerous ford, and deep. 
Where to the Tweed Leafs eddies creep. 

He ventured desperately : 



184 MARMION [Canto VI. 

And not a moment will lie bide. 

Till squire, or groom, before him ride ; 660 

Headmost of all he stems the tide. 

And stems it gallantly. 
Eustace held Clare upon her horse. 

Old Hubert led her rein ; 
Stoutly they braved the current^s course. 
And, though far downward driven perforce. 

The southern bank they gain ; 
Behind them, straggling, came to shore. 

As best they might, the train : 
Each o^'er his head his yew-bow bore, 670 

A caution not in vain ; 
Deep need that day that every string, 
By wet unharm'd, should sharply ring. 
A moment then Lord Marmion staid. 
And breathed his steed, his men array'd. 

Then forward moved his band. 
Until, Lord Surrey's rear-guard won. 
He halted by a cross of stone. 
That, on a hillock standing lone, 
Did all the field command. 680 

XXIIL 

Hence might they see the full array 

Of either host, for deadly fray ; 

Tlieir marshallM lines stretch'd east and west. 

And fronted north and south. 
And distant salutation pass'd 

From the loud cannon mouth ; 
Not in the close successive rattle 
That breathes the voice of modern battle. 

But slow and far between. — 
The hillock gained. Lord Marmion staid : 690 

" Here, by this cross,^' he gently said, 

" You well may view the scene. 
Here shalt thou tarry, lovely Clare : 
! think of Marmion in thy prayer ! — 



Canto VI.] THE BATTLE 185 

Thou wilt not ? — well, no less my care 
Shall, watchful, for thy weal prepare. — 
You, Blount and Eustace, are her guard. 

With ten pick'd archers of my train ; 
With England if the day go hard, 

To Berwick speed amain. — 700 

But if we conquer, cruel maid. 
My spoils shall at your feet be laid. 

When here we meet again." 
He waited not for answer there, 
And would not mark the maid^s despair, 

Nor heed the discontented look 
From either squire ; but spurred amain. 
And, dashing through the battle-plain. 

His way to Surrey took. 

XXIV. 

" The good Lord Marmion, by my life ! 710 



Welcome to danger's hour ! — 
Short greeting serves in time of strife : — 

Thus have I ranged my power : 
Myself will rule this central host, 

Stout Stanley fronts their right. 
My sons command the vaward post, 

With Brian Tunstall, stainless knight ; 

Lord Dacre, with his horsemen light. 

Shall be in rearward of the fight. 
And succonr those that need it most. 720 

Now, gallant Marmion, well I know, 

Would gladly to the vanguard go ; 
Edmund, the Admiral, Tunstall there. 
With thee their charge will blithely share ; 
There fight thine own retainers too. 
Beneath De Burg, thy steward true.'' — 
" Thanks, noble Surrey ! '' Marmion said. 
Nor farther greeting there he paid ; 
But, parting like a thunderbolt. 
First in the vanofuard made a halt, 730 



186 MARMION [Canto VI. 

i 
Where such a shout there rose ■ 

Of " Marmion ! Marmion ! " that the cry. 

Up Flodden mountain shrilling high. 

Startled the Scottish foes. 

XXV. i 

Blount and Fitz-Eustace rested still | 

With Lady Clare upon the hill ; | 

On which, (for far the day was spent,) \ 

The western sunbeams now were bent. ] 
The cry they heard, its meaning knew, 
Could plain their distant comrades view : 740 

Sadly to Blount did Eustace say, I 

" Unworthy office here to stay ! j 
No hope of gilded spurs to-day. — 
But see ! look up — on Flodden bent 

The Scottish foe has fired his tent." \ 

And sudden, as he spoke, \ 
From the sharp ridges of the hill. 

All downward to the banks of Till, 1 

Was wreath'd in sable smoke. ■ 
Volumed and vast, and rolling far, 750 .1 
The cloud envelop^l Scotland's war, 

As down the hill they broke ; , 

N"or martial shout, nor minstrel tone, \ 

Announced their march ; their tread alone, \ 
At times one warning trumpet blown. 

At times a stifled hum, ■ 
Told England, from his mountain-throne 

King James did rushing come. — i 

Scarce could they hear or see their foes, i 

Until at weapon-point they close. — 760 ■ 
They close in clouds of smoke and dust. 

With sword-sway, and with lance's thrust ; '■ 

And such a yell was there. 

Of sudden and portentous birth, \ 

As if men fought upon the earth, '. 

And fiends in upper air ; 



Canto VI.] THE BATTLE 187 

I life and death were in the shout, 
Kecoil and rally, charge and rout, 

And triumph and despair. 
Long look'd the anxious squires ; their eye 770 

Could in the darkness nought descry. 

XXVI. 

At length the freshening western blast 

Aside the shroud of battle cast ; 

And first the ridge of mingled spears 

Above the brightening cloud appears ; 

And in the smoke the pennons flew. 

As in the storm the white seamew. 

Then mark'd they, dashing broad and far. 

The broken billows of the war. 

And plumed crests of chieftains brave, 780 

Floating like foam upon the wave ; 

But nought distinct they see : 
Wide raged the battle on the plain ; 
Spears shook, and falchions flashed amain ; 
Fell England's arrow-flight like rain ; 
Crests rose, and stooped, and rose again. 

Wild and disorderly. 
Amid the scene of tumult, high 
They saw Lord Marmion's falcon fly : 
And stainless Tunstall's banner white, 790 

And Edmund Howard's lion bright, 
Still bear them bravely in the fight ; 

Although against them come. 
Of gallant Gordons many a one. 
And many a stubborn Badenoch-man, 
And many a rugged Border clan. 

With Huntly, and with Home. 

XXVIL 

Far on the left, unseen the while, 
Stanley broke Lennox and Argyle ; 



188 MARMION [Canto VI. 

Though there the western mountaineer 800 

Rushed with bare bosom on the spear, 

And flung the feeble targe aside. 

And with both hands the broadsword plied. 

'Twas vain. — But Fortune, on the right, 

With fickle smile cheerM Scotland's fight. 

Then fell that spotless banner white. 

The Howard's lion fell ; 
Yet still Lord Marmion's falcon flew 
With wavering flight, while fiercer grew 

Around the battle-yell. 810 

The Border slogan rent the sky ! 
A Home ! a Gordon ! was the cry : 

Loud were the clanging blows ; 
Advanced, — forced back, — now low, now high, 

The pennon sunk and rose ; 
As bends the bark's mast in the gale, 
AVhen rent are rigging, shrouds, and sail. 

It waver'd 'mid the foes. 
No longer Blount the view could bear : 
" By Heaven and all its saints ! I swear 820 

I will not see it lost ! 
Fitz-Eustace, you with Lady Clare 
May bid your beads, and patter prayer, — 

I gallop to the host." 
And to the fray he rode amain. 
Folio w'd by all the archer train. 
The fiery youth, with desperate charge. 
Made, for a space, an opening large, — 

The rescued banner rose, — 
But darkly closed the war around, 830 

Like pine-tree rooted from the ground 

It sank among the foes. 
Then Eustace mounted too, — yet staid. 
As loath to leave the helpless maid. 

When, fast as shaft can fly. 
Bloodshot his eyes, his nostrils spread, 
The loose rein dangling from his head, 



Canto VI.] THE BATTLE 189 

Housing and saddle bloody red, 

Lord Marmion's steed rusli'd by ; 
And Eustace, maddening at the sight, 840 

A look and sign to Clara cast, 

To mark he would return in haste. 
Then plunged into the fight. 

XXVIII. 

Ask me not what the maiden feels. 

Left in that dreadful hour alone : 
Perchance her reason stoops, or reels ; 

Perchance a courage, not her own, 

Braces her mind to desperate tone. — 
The scattered van of England wheels ;— 

She only said, as loud in air 850 

The tumult roar'd, " Is Wilton there ?" — 

They fly, or, ijiadden'd by despair. 

Fight but to die,— ^^ Is Wilton there ?"— 
With that, straight up the hill there rode 

Two horsemen drench'd with gore. 
And in their arms, a helpless load, 

A wounded knight they bore. 
His hand still strain'd the broken brand ; 
His arms were smear'd with blood and sand : 
Dragged from among the horses' feet. 
With dinted shield, and helmet beat. 
The falcon-crest and plumage gone, 
Can that be haughty Marmion ! . . . 
Young Blount his armour did unlace. 
And gazing on his ghastly face, 

Said— '^ By Saint George, he's gone ! 
That spear-wound has our master sped. 
And see the deep cut on his head ! 

Good-night to Marmion.'' — 
" Unnurtured Blount ! thy brawling cease : 
He opes his eyes," said Eustace ; " peace ! " 



860 



70 



190 MARMION [Canto VI. 

XXIX. 

When, doff'd his casque, he felt free air, 

Around ^gan Marmion wildly stare : — 

" Whereas Harry Blount ? Fitz-Eustace where ? 

Linger ye here, ye hearts of hare ! 

Redeem my pennon, — charge again ! 

Cry — ' Marmion to the rescue ! ' — Vain ! 

Last of my race, on battle-plain 

That shout shall ne'er be heard again ! — 

Yet my last thought is England's— fly, 880 

To Dacre bear my signet-ring : 

Tell him his squadrons up to bring. — 
Fitz-Eustace, to Lord Surrey hie ; 
Tunstall lies dead upon the field. 
His life-blood stains the spotless shield : 
Edmund is down ; — my life is reft ; 
The Admiral alone is left. 
Let Stanley charge with spur of fire, — 
With Chester charge, and Lancashire, 
Full upon Scotland's central host, 890 

Or victory and England's lost. — 
Must I bid twice ? — hence, varlets ! fly ! 
Leave Marmion here alone — to die." 
They parted, and alone he lay ; 
Clare drew her from the sight away. 
Till pain wrung forth a lowly moan, 
And half he murmur'd, — '^ Is there none 

Of all my halls have nurst. 
Page, squire, or groom, one cup to bring 
Of blessed water from the spring, 900 

To slake my dying thirst ! " 

XXX. 

Woman ! in our hours of ease. 
Uncertain, coy, and hard to please. 
And variable as the shade 
By the light quivering aspen made ; 



Canto VI.] THE BATTLE 191 

When pain and anguish wring the brow, 
A ministering angel thou ! — 
Scarce were the piteous accents said, 
When with the Baron's casque the maid 

To the nigh streamlet ran : 910 

Forgot were hatred, wrongs, and fears ; 
The plaintive voice alone she hears. 

Sees but the dying man. 
She stoop'd her by the runners side. 

But in abhorrence backward drew ; 
For, oozing from the mountain's side. 
Where raged the war, a dark-red tide 

Was curdling in the streamlet blue. 
Where shall she turn ! — behold her mark 

A little fountain cell, 920 

Where water, clear as diamond-spark. 

In a stone basin fell. 
Above, some half-worn letters say, 
Jrink . toearg . pilgrim . brink . anb . prag . 
J^or . i\t . kinb . soul . of . ^gbil . feg . 

M.\]a . built . tljts . tross . airb . foell . 
She fiird the helm, and back she hied. 
And with surprise and joy espied 

A monk supporting Marmion's head ; 
A pious man, whom duty brought 930 

To dubious verge of battle fought. 

To shrieve the dying, bless the dead. 



XXXI. 

Deep drank Lord Marmion of the wave. 
And, as she stoop'd his brow to lave — 
*^Is it the hand of Clare," he said, 
" Or injured Constance, bathes my head ? '' 

Then, as remembrance rose, — 
" Speak not to me of shrift or prayer ! 

I must redress her woes. 



192 MARMION [Canto VI. 

Short space, few words, are mine to spare ; 940 

Forgive and listen, gentle Clare ! " — 

" Alas ! " she said, " the while, — 
O, think of your immortal weal ! 
In vain for Constance is your zeal ; 

She died at Holy Isle."— 

Lord Marmion started from the ground 

As light as if he felt no wound ; 

Though in the action burst the tide 

In torrents from his wounded side. 

^* Then it was truth ; " — he said — "■ I knew 950 

That the dark presage must be true. — 

I would the Fiend, to whom belongs 

The vengeance due to all her wrongs. 

Would spare me but a day ! 
For wasting fire, and dying groan. 
And priests slain on the altar stone, 

Might bribe him for delay. 
It may not be ! — this dizzy trance — 
Curse on you base marauder's lance. 
And doubly cursed my failing brand ! 96C 

A sinful heart makes feeble hand." 
Then, fainting, down on earth he sunk, 
Supported by the trembling monk. 

XXXII. 

With fruitless labour Clara bound. 

And strove to stanch the gushing wound : 

The monk, with unavailing cares. 

Exhausted all the Church's prayers. 

Ever, he said, that, close and near, 

A lady's voice was in his ear, 

And that the priest he could not hear ; 970 

For that she ever sung, 
'^ In the lost tattle, home down hy the flying, 
Where mingles wain's rattle with groans of the dying I " 

So the notes runsf. — 



Canto VI.J THE BATTLE 193 

^^ Avoid thee, Fiend ! — with cruel hand 
Shake not the dying sinner's sand ! — 
O, look, my son, upon yon sign 
Of the Redeemer's grace divine ; 

0, think on faith and bliss ! 
By many a death-bed I have been, 980 

And many a sinner's parting seen. 

But never aught like this." — 
The war, that for a space did fail, 
Now trebly thundering swell'd the gale, 

And — Stanley ! was the cry ; — 
A light on Marm ion's visage spread. 

And fired his glazing eye : 
With dying hand above his head 
He shook the fragment of his blade. 

And shouted ^^ Victory !— 990 

Charge, Chester, charge ! On, Stanley, on ! " 
Were the last words of Marmion. 



XXXIII. 

By this, though deep the evening fell. 
Still rose the battle's deadly swell. 
For still the Scots, around their King, 
Unbroken, fought in desperate ring. 
Where's now their victor vaward wing. 

Where Huntly, and where Home ? — 
0, for a blast of that dread horn. 
On Fontarabian echoes borne, 1000 

That to King Charles did come. 
When Rowland brave, and Olivier, 
And every paladin and peer. 

On Roncesvalles died ! 
Such blasts might warn them, not in vain. 
To quit the plunder of the slain, 
And turn the doubtful day again. 

While yet on Flodden side. 



194 MABMION [Canto YI 

Afar, the Koyal Standard flies. 

And round it toils, and bleeds, and dies, 1010 

Our Caledonian pride ! 
In vain the wish — for far away. 
While spoil and havoc mark their way. 
Near Sybil's Cross the plunderers stray. — 
" Lady," cried the monk, '^'^away ! '' 

And placed her on her steed. 
And led her to the chapel fair 

Of Tilmouth upon Tweed. 
There all the night they spent in prayer. 
And, at the dawn of morning, there 1020 

She met her kinsman. Lord Fitz- Clare. 



XXXIV. 

■I 

But as they left the darkening heath " ^ 

More desperate grew the strife of death. : 

The English shafts in volleys hail'd, I 

In headlong charge their horse assailed ; j 

Front, flank, and rear, the squadrons sweep .\ 
To break the Scottish circle deep. 

That fought around their King. 
But yet, though thick the shafts as snow. 
Though charging knights like whirlwinds go, 1030 \ 

Though bill-men ply the ghastly blow, ' 

Unbroken was the ring ; ! 

The stubborn spearmen still made good j 

Their dark impenetrable wood, \ 

Each stepping where his comrade stood ■ 

The instant that he fell. 

No thought was there of dastard flight ; j 

Linked in the serried phalanx tight, \ 

Groom fought like noble, squire like knight, j 

As fearlessly and well ; 1040 ' 

Till utter darkness closed her wing j 

O'er their thin host and wounded King. 1 



Canto VI.] 



THE BATTLE 195 



Then skilful Surrey's sage commands 
Led back from strife his shattered bands ; 

And from the charge they drew. 
As mountain-waves, from wasted lands. 

Sweep back to ocean blue. 
Then did their loss his foeman know ; 
Their King, their lords, their mightiest low, 
They melted from the field, as snow, 1050 

When streams are swoln and south winds blow. 

Dissolves in silent dew. 
Tweed's echoes heard the ceaseless plash. 

While many a broken band, 
Disordered, through her currents dash. 

To gain the Scottish land ; 
To town and tower, to down and dale. 
To tell red Flodden's dismal tale. 
And raise the universal wail. 

Tradition, legend, tune, and song 1060 

Shall many an age that wail prolong : 
Still from the sire the son shall hear 
Of the stern strife, and carnage drear. 

Of Flodden's fatal field. 
Where shivered was fair Scotland's spear. 

And broken was her shield ! 

XXXV. 

Day dawns upon the mountain's side : — 
There, Scotland ! lay thy bravest pride, 
Chiefs, knights, and nobles, many a one : 
The sad survivors all are gone.— 1070 

View not that corpse mistrustfully. 
Defaced and mangled though it be ; 
• Nor to yon Border castle high 

Look northward with upbraiding eye ; 

Nor cherish hope in vain 
That, journeying far on foreign strand, 
The Royal Pilgrim to his land 



196 MARMION [Canto VI. 

May yet return again. 
He saw the wreck his rashness wrought ; 
Reckless of life, he desperate fought, 1080 

And fell on Flodden plain : 
And well in death his trusty brand. 
Firm clench'd within his manly hand. 

Beseemed the monarch slain. 
But ! how changed since yon blithe night ! 
Gladly I turn me from the sight 

Unto my tale again. 



XXXVI. 

Short is my tale : — Fitz-Eustace' care 

A pierced and mangled body bare 

To moated Lichfield's lofty pile ; 1090 

And there, beneath the southern aisle, 

A tomb, with Gothic sculpture fair. 

Did long Lord Marmion's image bear. 

(Now vainly for its site you look ; 

^Twas levelled, when fanatic Brook 

The fair cathedral storm'd and took ; 

But, thanks to Heaven, and good Saint Chad, 

A guerdon meet the spoiler had !) 

There erst was martial Marmion found. 

His feet upon a couchant hound, 1100 

His hands to Heaven upraised ; 
And all around, on scutcheon rich. 
And tablet carved, and fretted niche. 

His arms and feats were blazed. 
And yet, though all was carved so fair, 
And priest for Marmion breathed the prayer. 
The last Lord Marmion lay not tliere. 
From Ettrick woods, a peasant swain 
Followed his lord to Flodden plain, — 
One of those flowers, whom plaintive lay 1110 

In Scotland mourns as " wede away " : 



Canto VI.] 



THE BATTLE 197 



Sore wounded, Sybil's Cross he spied. 
And dragg'd him to its foot, and died. 
Close by the noble Marmion's side. 
The spoilers stripped and gash'd the slain. 
And thus their corpses were mistaken ; 
And thus, in the proud Baron's tomb 
The lowly woodsman took the room. 

XXXVII. 

Less easy task it were, to show 

Lord Marmion's nameless grave and low. 1120 

They dug his grave e'en where he lay. 

But every mark is gone ; 
Time's wasting hand has done away 
The simple Cross of Sybil Grey, 

And broke her font of stone : 
But yet from out the little hill 
Oozes the slender springlet still. 

Oft halts the stranger there. 
For thence may best his curious eye 
The memorable field descry ; 1130 

And shepherd boys repair 
To seek the water-flag and rush, 
And rest them by the hazel bush. 

And plait their garlands fair ; 
Nor dream they sit upon the grave 
That holds the bones of Marmion brave.— 
When thou shalt find the little hill. 
With thy heart commune, and be still. 
If ever, in temptation strong. 

Thou left'st the right path for the wrong ; 1140 

If every devious step thus trod 
Still led thee farther from the road ; 
Dread thou to speak presumptuous doom 
On noble Marmion's lowly tomb ; 
But say, '' He died a gallant knight, 
With sword in hand, for England's right." 



198 MARMION [Canto VI \ 

XXXVIII. \ 

J 

I do not rhyme to that dull elf \ 

Who cannot image to himself j 

That all through Flodden's dismal night j 

Wilton was foremost in the tight ; 1150 ! 

That when brave Surrey's steed was slain I 

'Twas Wilton mounted him again ; ^ 
'Twas W^ilton's brand that deepest hew'd 
Amid the spearmen's stubborn wood : 
Unnamed by Holinshed or Hall, 

He was the living soul of all ; i 

That, after fight, his faith made plain, j 

He won his rank and lands again ; i 

And charged his old paternal shield i 

With bearings won on Flodden Field. 1160 I 

Nor sing I to that simple maid ; 
To whom it must in terms be said 

That King and kinsmen did agree ' 

To bless fair Clara's constancy ; , 

Who cannot, unless I relate, ' 

Paint to her mind the bridal's state ; i 

That Wolsey's voice the blessing spoke, \ 
More, Sands, and Denny, pass'd the joke : 
That bluff King Hal the curtain drew. 

And Catherine's hand the stocking threw ; 1170 

And afterwards, for many a day, \ 

That it was held enough to say, j 

In blessing to a wedded pair, j 

'' Love they like Wilton and like Clare I " . ] 



L'ENVOY 199 

TO THE READER. 

Why then a final note prolong, 

Or lengthen out a closing song. 

Unless to bid the gentles speed. 

Who long have listed to my rede ? 

To Statesmen grave, if such ma}' deign 

To read the MinstreFs idle strain, 

Sound head, clean hand, and piercing wit, 

And patriotic heart — as Pitt ! 

A garland for the heron's crest, 

And twined by her he loves the best ; 10 

To every lovely lady bright, 

What can I wish but faithful knight ? 

To every faithful lover too. 

What can I wish but lady true ? 

And knowledge to the studious sage ; 

And pillow to the head of age. 

To thee, dear school-boy, whom my lay 

Has cheated of thy hour of play, 

Light task, and merry holiday ! 

To all, to each, a fair good-night, 20 

And pleasing dreams, and slumbers light ! 



NOTES 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO I. 

William Stewart Rose was a literary man of some distinc- 
tion. His friendship with Scott was of long standing. 
When Scott was returning from London, during his composi- 
tion of Marmion, he visited Rose at his cottage of Gundimore, 
in Hampshire. Rose w^as known chiefly by his Letters from 
the North of Italy and his translation of Orlando Furioso. 
He also translated the romances Amadis de Gaul and Par- 
tenopex de Blois, which Scott alludes to in line 310 if. 

The introduction was written late in 1806. Pitt had died 
early in the year, worn out by the strain of keeping the beaten 
powers of Europe in line against Napoleon. Fox, who had 
succeeded to the direction of foreign affairs, had failed to 
realize the great dream of his life, peace with Napoleon, and 
had died eight months after his rival. The last catastrophe 
on the Continent had been the annihilation of the Prussian 
power at Jena, in October, 1806. 

3. Linn is used for cascade, pool, or ravine. Here it refers 
to the ravine which was close under the Avindows of the house 
of Ashestiel, ' ' down which a mountain rivulet is more heard 
than seen in its progress to the Tweed. ' ' — Lockhart. 

14. Tweed. "The river itself is separated from the high 
bank on which the house stands only by a narrow meadow of 
the richest verdure." — Lockhart. The Tweed flows in a 
generally eastAvard direction. On the southern bank, east of 
Ashestiel, are Flodden Edge and Norham Castle. 

20. Needpath-fell, a hill near Ashestiel. Fell, a rocky 
hill. 

22. Yair, another hill near Ashestiel. 

23. Pinehing, as in Shakspere, biting. Cf. our expression, 
* ' a biting frost. ' ' Heaven, weather. 

30. Olenkinnon's Rill, a brook near Ashestiel. 



202 MABMION [Introduction to 

37. Imp. ** Imp " is used for child, especially for a naughty 
or mischievous child. Scott had four children when this was 
written. 

50. Round, a circular dance of persons holding hands. Cf. 
Comus, 148, "light fantastic round." Here it may refer to 
the dance of the children, or, loosely used, to the bounding of 
the lambs. 

64. Probably a reminiscence of Wordsworth's Ode on Inti- 
mations of Immortality : 

" To me the meanest flower that blows can give 
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears." 

72. Oadite, an adjective formed from Cadiz, called by the 
Romans Gades. Cape Trafalgar is thirty miles south of 
Cadiz. Here Nelson destroyed the French fleet, October 31, 
1805. 

73. Levin, lightning. 

80. Who hade the conqueror go forth. William Pitt was 
the Prime Minister of England from 1788 to 1801, and from 
1803 to 1806. His father, the Earl of Chatham, was the great 
war minister to whose genius England owed her triumph over 
France in the Seven Years' War, and her conquest of Canada. 
Pitt the younger became Prime Minister at the age of twenty- 
five. He was not a war minister. ' ' He was in fact a peace 
minister, forced into war by a panic and enthusiasm which he 
shared in a very small degree, and unaided by his father's gift 
of at once entering into the sympathies and passions around 
him, and of rousing passions and sympathies in return." — 
Green, A Short Histoi^y of the English People. Neverthe- 
less, Pitt is remembered for his desperate attempt to foil Na- 
poleon by his successive coalitions of the powers. 

82. Egypt, Hafnia, Trafalgar, are scenes of Nelson's vic- 
tories ; the Nile, 1798; Copenhagen, 1801; Trafalgar, 1805. 

90. Albion, the poetic name for England. In contrast to 
the usual corruption of public men of the eighteenth century 
Pitt neglected his opportunities of enrichment to such an 
extent that he died £40,000 in debt. His last words were, 
* * My country ! How I leave my country ! ' ' 

91. Amain, with force. Cf. the familiar phrase, "with 
might and main. ' ' 

92. The reference here is to the internal disturbances in 
England, the bread riots of 1795 and 1800, etc. In spite of 
this discontent Pitt organized a national army of three hun- 



Canto I.] NOTES 203 

dred thousand volunteers to meet Napoleon's threatened in- 
vasion. 

104. Tottering throne, an allusion to the insanity of George 
the Third. 

111. Palinure's unaltered mood, an allusion to the stead- 
fastness of Aeneas' helmsman, who refused to be seduced 
from his post by Somnus, the god of sleep, and was hurled 
into the sea by the angry god. — Aeneid, v., 854 ff. 

127. His rival slumbers nigh. Charles James Fox was 
Pitt's opponent from the latter's first entry into public life. 
He is buried near Pitt in Westminster Abbey. 

130. Scott inserted the next twelve lines in place of six 
which occur in the original manuscript. The change was 
obviously made in order to make the balance between the two 
men more complete. The lines as first written are : 

"If genius high, and judgment sound, 
And art that loved to play, not wound. 
And all the reasoning powers divine, 
To penetrate, resolve, combine, 
Could save one mortal of the herd 
From error— Fox had never err'd." 

Even the passage as altered did not please Fox's admirers. 
Jeffrey wrote in his cutting criticism in the Edinhiirgh 
Review : 

**The first epistolary effusion, containing a threnody on 
Nelson, Pitt, and Fox, exhibits a remarkable failure. We 
are unwilling to quarrel with a poet on the score of politics ; 
but the manner in which he has chosen to praise the last of 
these great men is more likely, we conceive, to give offence to 
his admirers, than the most direct censure. The only deed 
for which he is praised is for having broken off the negotia- 
tion for peace ; and for this act of firmness, it is added. 
Heaven rewarded him with a share in the honoured gi-ave of 
Pitt ! It is then said that his errors should be forgotten, and 
that he died a Briton — a pretty plain insinuation that, in the 
Author's opinion, he did not live one ; and just such an en- 
comium as he himself pronounces over the grave of his villain 
hero, Marmion. ' ' 

135. Resolve, resolve into its elements ; analyze. 

139. Error, a reference to Fox's private debauchery. 

143. Here, Westminster Abbey. 

146. Aisles. The aisles, from ala, wing, are the longitu- 
dinal divisions of the body of a church made by rows of 
columns. The term is usually applied to the side divisions 



204 MAR3II0N [Introduction to 

as distinct from the central one. Fretted refers to the orna- 
mentation of the aisles by the intersecting lines of the ceiling. 

154 ff. These lines refer to Fox's course while Secretary 
for Foreign Affairs in 1806. Austria "bent" at Austerlitz, 
where Napoleon completely defeated her forces and obliged her 
to sign the treaty of Presburg at the close of 1805. Prussia 
"broke" at Jena, October 14, 1806, after which the Prussian 
monarchy almost collapsed, and became in fact a mere vassal 
of France. Russia had been in alliance with England, but in 
the negotiations after Austerlitz her ambassador agreed to a 
peace with Napoleon without consulting the interests of the 
allies. This ambassador, D'Oubril, was the "timorous slave. " 
The treaty was, however, repudiated by the Czar. Fox had 
long contended in Parliament for peace with France. As 
minister he entered into negotiations with Napoleon, but he was 
forced to see at last that there was no chance of securing any- 
thing like honorable terms. In spite of the fact that all of 
England's allies were wavering or broken, he refused to ac- 
cept what Napoleon offered. 

Scott is somewhat unchronological in this passage. Jena 
was not fought until after Fox's death. The premature 
treaty of Russia with France was signed while England was 
negotiating with France. Its repudiation by the Czar was 
one reason why England withdrew from these negotiations. 
This final withdrawal, and the formal adoption of Pitt's 
war policy by the new ministry, which might be described as 
nailing the colors to the mast, took place some weeks after 
Fox's death. 

177. Thessalian, an allusion to the common belief that Thes- 
saly was the home of witchcraft. 

199. Hearse, tomb. The hearse was originally a harrow. The 
term was then applied to the triangular frame holding upright 
candles that was placed over the coffin. It then came to be 
used of various objects connected with funerals, usually of the 
tomb, as here. 

Cf. " Let all the tears that should bedew my hearse 

Be drops of balm to sanctify thy head." — Henry IV., Second Part, iv., v. 

203. Border' Minstrel, a reference to Scott himself, whose 
earlier Lay had been praised by both Pitt and Fox. 

204. Gothic, rude; opposed to classical. The term was ap- 
plied with something of contempt by eighteenth century writers 
of classical tendencies to the romantic school. Historically the 



Canto I.] NOTES 205 

term comes from the Goths, the sturdiest opponents of the 
Western Roman Empire, and is used loosely for various ele- 
ments {e.g., Gothic architecture) in mediaeval civilization which 
may have been remotely due to their intiuence, 

217. Ecstasy, high emotion. 

220 if. The picture of Westminster Abbey, which the poet 
has called up in his mind, fades. 

232. Prompt, etc. The poet is ready to undertake tasks for 
w^hich he is unequal. 

235. Waste, spend, its meaning often in Shakspere. Cf. 
" companions that do converse and waste the time together," 
Merchant of Venice, iii. , iv. 

238. Shrilling, a participle from an old verb, "to shrill." 

254. Palsied hand. Palsied is not a passive participle, but an 
adjective, meaning furnished with the power of palsying. 
Shakspere affords many examples of like use. 

256. Steely weeds, clothes of steel. Weeds is sometunes used 
in the sense of garments even to-day. Cf. "In words, like 
weeds, I'll wrap me o'er." — Tennyson, In Memoriam. 

258. The Champion of the Lake, Sir Lancelot of the Lake. 

259. Morgana was King Arthur's wicked sister, Queen Mor- 
gan Le Fay, who, out of her vain love for Lancelot, brought 
him by enchantment to her castle, and, on his rejecting her 
lov^e, conjured up a "chapel perilous," guarded by armed giants 
and deadly spells, by beguiling him whither on a knightly ad- 
venture, she hoped to bring about his death. See Malory's 
famous Mort Darthur, Book xi. 

263. Oanore, King Arthur's wife. Queen Guinevere, 

265. Lancelot's fight Avith Sir Turquine (Tarquin) Avill be 
found in the Mort Darthur, Book vi., chapters vii.-ix. 

267. A sinful man and unconfess'd, etc. Lancelot's vain 
quest of the Holy Grail is best read in Tennyson's Tfie Holy 
Grail. See also Mort Darthur, Book xiii., chapters xviii., xix. 
TJnconfess' d, not having confessed his sins and been shrived, 

271. The mightiest chiefs, etc, , a fact which the romanticists 
were not slow to remember, 

273, Spenser's elfin dream, a reference to The Faerie Queene. 

274. Milton's heavenly theme. It is well known that Milton 
in his youth thought of writing an Arthurian epic. In Para- 
dise Lost and Paradise Regained there are references which 
show his familiarity with British legends. Cf. Paradise Lost, 
Book i., line 580. 



206 MARMION [Canto I. 

275. And Dryden, etc. At one time Dryden had in mind an 
epic based on the legends of King Arthur, but was turned away 
from this and a similar project by finding that the taste of his 
times demanded less heroic themes and a different style. See 
his Essay on Satire. 

282. Defrauded. The verb looks back for its subject to 
"king and court." 

294. Prick, spur. 

308. Lion-mettled, having the mettle of a lion. 

310. Fair achievement. See note above on William Stewart 
Rose. 

312. Ytene's oaks. "The New Forest in Hampshire, an- 
ciently so called." — Scott. Rose lived near the New Forest. 

314. Ascapart, etc. Ascapart was a giant, conquered by 
Bevis of Southampton, whose History, in various forms, re- 
mained popular until the eighteenth century. 

315. Bed King, William II., Rufus, or the Red, who was 
shot by mistake by his favorite huntsman, Sir Walter Tyrrell, 
in the New Forest. 

320. Gaul, Wales. 

321. Hall. "In hall and bower," i.e., among men and 
women, is a conmion expression in the old ballads. 

322. Oriana, the English princess for whom Amadis under- 
took his adventures, as described in Amadis de Gaul, the most 
famous of the prose romances of the middle age. Amadis de 
Gaul was probably Avritten by Vasco de Lobeira, a Portuguese 
knight of the fourteenth century. It was, however, so ex- 
tensively translated, added to and imitated, that the original 
remains somewhat doubtful. A good example of the epic style 
in which it was written is found in Don Quixote. 

325. Partenopex. Partenopex de Blois, a metrical romance 
of the thirteenth century, narrating the adventures of Parte- 
nopex, while seeking the love of a fairy. 



CANTO I. 

1. Norham. * ' The ruinous castle of Norham (anciently called 
Ubbanford) is situated on the southern bank of the Tweed, 
about six miles from Berwick, and where that river is still the 
boundary between England and Scotland. The extent of its 
ruins, as well as its historical importance, shows it to have 
been a place of magnificence, as well as strength. Edward I. 



Canto I.] NOTES 207 

resided there when he was created umpire of the dispute con- 
cerning the Scottish succession. It was repeatedly taken and 
retaken during the wars betAveen England and Scotland ; and, 
indeed, scarce any happened in which it had not a principal 
share. . . . The ruins of the castle are at present consider- 
able, as well as picturesque. They consist of a large shattered 
tower, Avith many vaults, and fragments of other edifices, in- 
closed within an outward wall of great circuit. " — Scott. 

4. Battled, prepared for battle ; furnished with battlements. 
Donjon keep. "It is perhaps unnecessary to remind my 

readers, that the donjon, in its proper signification, means the 
strongest part of a feudal castle ; a high square tower, with 
walls of tremendous thickness, situated in the centre of the 
other buildings, from which, however, it was usually detached. 
Here, in case of the outward defences being gained, the garri- 
son retreated to make their last stand. The donjon contained 
the great hall, and principal rooms of state for solenni occa- 
sions, and also the prison of the fortress ; from which last cir- 
cumstance we derive the modern and restricted use of the word 
dungeon. " — Scott. 

5. Loophole grates, loopholes covered by grating. 

14. Saint George, the patron saint of England from the time 
of Edward III. His cross in red on a white ground was the 
English flag. The original of St. George is supposed to have 
been an officer in the Roman Army who suffered martyrdom 
under Diocletian. Others derive the saint from the infamous 
George of Cappadocia (see Gibbon, Decline and Fall of the 
Roman Empire, chapter xxiii.). Both origins are improb- 
able. 

20. Parted, departed. 

29. Hormliff-hill, a hill east of Norham. Plump. "This 
word properly applies to the flight of waterfowl ; but is ap- 
plied, by analogy, to a body of horse. 

' There is a knight of the North Country, 
Which leads a lusty jj^wmi) of spears.'— i^Zodden Fie7d."— Scott. 

33. Mettled, spirited. See note on Introduction to Canto 
I., 1. 308. 
38. Hasted, hastened. 

42. Sewer, originally, the taster ; generally, the officer who 
had charge of servmg the feast. Seneschal, the steward or 
head of the household. 

43. Pipe, cask. Malvoisie, Malmsey wine, so called from 
Malvasia, a Greek town where it was produced. 

50. Salvo-shot. In the manuscript, " welcome shot. " 



208 M ARM ION [Canto I. 

55. Portcallis, a heavy do(ir let down from above to close an 
opening. 

56. Unsparr''d, unbarred. 
62. Stalworth, stalwart. 

65. Bosworth field. At Bosworth in 1485 Henry VII. won 
the crown of England from Richard III. 

79. Milan steel. The most famous armor of the Middle Ages 
was made in Milan. 

86. Soared sable, etc. , heraldic terms. The field or general 
surface of the coat of arms was blue ; the falcon, which soared 
in the field, was black. 

88. Checks^ a technical term in falconry, meaning to turn 
aside to attack, or as Schmidt explains it in his Shakespeare 
Lexicon, ''applied to a hawk stopping at the sight of game not 
seen before." Cf. "And, like the haggard, check at every 
feather," Tivelfth Night, iii., i. Bight, from Anglo-Saxon 
diJitan, prepared, appointed. 

"The crest and motto of Marmion are borrowed from the 
following story : Sir David de Lindsay, first Earl of Crauford, 
was, among other gentlemen of quality, attended, during a 
visit to London, in 1390, by Sir William Dalzell, who was, ac- 
cording to my authority. Bower, not only excelling in wisdom, 
but also of a lively wit. Chancing to be at the court, he there 
saw Sir Piers (>)urtenay, an English kniglit, famous for his 
skill in tilting, and for the beauty of his person, parading the 
palace, arrayed in a new mantle, bearing for device an em- 
broidered falcon, with this rhyme : 

" ' I bear a falcon, fairest of flight, 

Whoso pinches at her, his death is dight. 

In graith. ' ' 

' * The Scottish knight, being a wag, appeared next day in a 
dress exactly similar to that of Courtenay, but bearing a mag- 
pie instead of the falcon, with a motto ingeniously contrived 
to rhyme to the vaunting inscription of Sir Piers : 

" ' I bear a pie picking at a peice, 

Whoso picks at her, 1 shall pick at his nese,' 
In faith.' 

"This affront could only be expiated by a just with sharp 
lances. In the course, Dalzell left his helmet unlaced, so 
that it gave way at the touch of his antagonist's lance, and he 
thus avoided the shock of the encounter. This happened 
twice : in the third encounter, the handsome Courtenay lost 

1 Armour. = Nose, 



Canto I.] NOTES 209 

two of his front teeth. As the Englishman complained bitterly 
of Dalzell's fraud in not fastening his helmet, the Scottishman 
agreed to run six courses more, each champion staking in the 
hand of the King two hundred pounds, to be forfeited, if, on 
entering the lists, any unequal advantage should be detected. 
This being agreed to, the wily Scot demanded that Sir Piers, 
in addition to tlie loss of his teeth, should consent to the ex- 
tinction of one of his eyes, he himself having lost an eye in the 
light of Otterburn. As Courtenay demurred to this equaliza- 
tion of optical powers, Dalzell demanded the forfeit; which, 
after nnich altercation, the King appointed to be paid to him, 
saying, he surpassed the English both in wit and valour. This 
must appear to the reader a singular specimen of the humour 
of that time. I suspect the Jockey Club would have given a 
different decision from Henry IV." — Scott. 

91. Housing, covering of the horse. 

92. Trapped, adorned. 

95. Gilded spurs, the badge of knighthood. 

98. Bear the ring away, an allusion to the knightly sport of 
riding at the ring, in which a horseman at full speed tried to 
carry off on the point of his lance a ring suspended before him. 
Cf. Scott's Rosabelle : 

" 'Tis not because the ring they ride, 
And Lindesay at the ring rides well." 

100. Carve at hoai^d. Chaucer's squire, it will be remembered, 
"carf byforn his fader at the table,'' Prologue to the Canter- 
bury Tales, 1. 100. 

101. Passing, exceeding. Cf. "surpassing." 

104. Halhert, a combination of spear and axe. Bill, a knife 
with a pole for a handle. 

107. TW^evi, elliptical ; " for the time when. " 

108. Him listed, it pleased him. 

IIG. Hosen, trousers, as in Shakspere. Hosen is the old 
plural form. Cf. "oxen." Je/7vi7?6', short coats. 

122. Cloth-yard shaft, an arrow somewhat more than a yard 
long. See note on V., 18. 

130. Morion, a helmet without a visor. 

134. Linstoiik., perhaps lintstock, or, more probably lont- 
stock, from lont, a match ; a cleft stick which held the match 
used to fire the cannon. Fare, ready. 

139. Mor rice-pikes, Moorish pikes. Advanced, raised, as 
frequently in Shakspere. Cf ' ' The fringed curtains of thine 
eye advance," Tempest, i., ii. 



210 MARMION [Canto I. 

141. Glanced, flashed. 

146. Angels, English corns worth at this time about ten shil- 
lings. On one side they bore a figure of the Archangel Michael 
killing the dragon. 

149. Brook ^ use, manage, or control. In The Lady of the 
Lake we have the sword which only Douglas's ' ' stalwart arm 
might brook to wield." The word in its usual sense of " bear " 
is extremely common in Scott's poetry. 

151. Pursuivants, attendants on the heralds. Tabarts (or 
tabards), short coats or tunics on which were blazoned the 
arms of the wearers. Tabards were always worn by heralds. 

157. TJiey haiVd Mm, etc. " Lord Marmion, the principal 
character of the present romance, is entirely a fictitious per- 
sonage. In earlier times, indeed, the family of Marmion, Lords 
of Fontenay, in Normandy, was highly distinguished. Robert 
de Marmion, Lord of Fontenay, a distinguished follower of 
the Conqueror, obtained a grant of the castle and town of 
Tamworth, and also of the manor of Scrivelby, in Lincoln- 
shire. One or both of these noble possessions was held by 
the honorable service of being the royal champion, as the 
ancestors of Marmion had formerly been to the Dukes of Nor- 
mandy. ... I have not, therefore, created a new family, 
but only revived the titles of an old one in an imaginary 
personage. 

'* It was one of the Marmion family, who, in the reign of 
Edward II., performed that chivalrous feat before the very 
Castle of Norham, which Bishop Percy has woven into his 
beautiful ballad, * The Hermit of Warkworth. ' The story is 
thus told by Leland : 

" ' The Scottes came yn to the marches of England, and de- 
stroyed the castles of AVerk and Herbotel, and overran much 
of Northumberland marches. 

'* ' At this tyme, Thomas Gray and his friends defended 
Norham from the Scottes. 

" ' It were a wonderful processe to declare, what mischefes 
cam by hungre and asseges by the space of xi. yeres in Nor- 
thumberland ; for the Scottes became so proude after they had 
got Berwicke, that they nothing esteemed the Englishmen. 

"'About this tyme there was a greate teste made yn Lin- 
colnshir, to which cam many gentlemen and ladies ; and 
amonge them one lady brought a heaulme for a man of were, 
with a very rich creste of gold, to William Marmion, knight, 
with a letter of commandement of her lady, that he should go 
into the daungerest place in England, and ther to let the 
heaulme be seene and known as famous. So he went to Nor- 
ham ; whither withyn 4 days of cumming cam Philip Mou- 



Canto I.] NOTES 211 

bray, guardian of Berwicke, having yn his bande 40 men of 
amies, the very flour of men of the Scottish marches. 

' ' ' Thomas Gray, capitayne of Norham, seynge this, brought 
his garison afore the barriers of the castle, behynd whom cam 
William, richly arrayed, as al glittering in gold, and wering 
the heaulme, his lady's present. 

' ' ' Then said Thomas Gray to Marmion, ' ' Sir knight, ye be 
cum hither to fame your helmet : mount up on yowr horse, and 
ryde lyke a valiant man to yowr foes even here at hand, and I 
forsake God if I rescue not thy body deade or alyve, or I my- 
self wyl dye for it. ' ' 

' ' ' Whereupon he toke his cursere, and rode among the 
throng of ennemyes ; the which layed sore stripes on hym, 
and pullid hym at the last out of his sadel to the grounde. 

' ' ' Then Thomas Gray, with al the hole garrison, lette prik 
yn among the Scottes, and so wondid them and their horses, 
that they were overthrown ; and Marmion, sore beten, was 
horsid agayn, and, with Gray, persewed the Scottes yn chase. 
There were taken fifty horse of price ; and the women of Nor- 
ham brought them to the foote men to follow the chase. ' " — 
Scott. 

161. Marks' toeight. The mark, a Aveight equal to eight 
ounces, and was also a coin worth 13 shillings and 4 pence. 

163. Largesse. '* This was the cry with which heralds and 
pursuivants were wont to acknowledge the bounty received 
from the knights. 

* ' The heralds, like the minstrels, were a race allowed to 
have great claims upon the liberality of the knights, of whose 
feats they kept a record, and proclaimed them aloud, as in the 
text, upon suitable occasions. 

* ' At Berwick, Norham, and other Border fortresses of im- 
portance, pursuivants usually resided, whose inviolable char- 
acter rendered them the only persons that could, with perfect 
assurance of safety, be sent on necessary embassies into Scot- 
land. This is alluded to in Stanza xxi. ' ' — Scott. 

165. Blazoned shield, a shield on which particular bearings 
or heraldic emblems were displayed. Cf. VI., 1160, where 
Wilton is allowed to add special bearings for his valor at 
Flodden. 

171. Lording s, diminutive of lords ; a term of respect. 

174. Lists, the tournament. 

185. Reversed, part of the ceremony of degrading a knight. 
See note on II., 523. 

192. Sir Hugh the Heron. "Were accuracy of any conse- 
quence in a fictitious narrative, this castellan's name ought to 
have been William ; for William Heron of Ford was husband 



212 HARM ION [Canto I. 

to the famous Lady Ford, whose siren charms are said to have 
cost our James IV. so dear. Moreover, the said William Heron 
was, at the time supposed, a prisoner in Scotland, being sur- 
rendered by Henry VIII. on account of his sliare in the slaugh- 
ter of Sir Robert Ker of Cessford. His wife, represented in the 
text as residing at the Court of Scotland, was, in fact, living 
in her own castle at Ford." — Scott. 

193. Ford. Ford Castle is a mile northeast of FloddenHill. 

195. Deas. Dais. 

200. *' The ballad here quoted was the production of Mr. R. 
Surtees, and palmed off by him upon Scott as a genuine relic 
of antiquity." — Lockhart. The entire ballad, called The 
Death of Feather stonhaugh, is given in Scott's Minstrelsy of 
the Scottish Border. 

303. Hardriding Dick, Richard Ridley of Hardriding. 

205. Sir Albany Feather stonhaugh was killed in 1530. 

206. Deadman' s-shaw, Deadman's Wood. 

222. Couch, to put the lance in rest, or at the level for charg- 
ing, where it was sustained by a projection on the armor. 

231. Wassel-bowl. Wassail (wassel) comes from the Anglo- 
Saxon waeshael, a greeting of health. It came to denote the 
festivities at which such greetings were given, and the liquor 
in which they were drunk. This latter was a mixture of 
ale, with spices and crab-apples. 

238. Raby, a castle near Durham. 

257. Brook. Here and below (1. 262) brook has its usual 
meaning of bear, endure. 

264. Liiidisfarn. See note on II., 10. 

277. Fosse, moat. 

281. Qiieen Margaret, daughter of Henry VII. and wife of 
James IV. of Scotland. 

284. Leash, the cord by which the hound is held. 

286. Soar her swing, soar until tired. 

287. Stoop, lower her flight. See IV., 585, and VI., 389. 
298. Warbeck. "■ The story of Perkin Warbeck, or Richard, 

Duke of York, is well known. In 1496, he was received 
honourably in Scotland ; and James IV., after conferring upon 
him in marriage his own relation, the Lady (Catherine Gor- 
don, made war on England in behalf of his pretensions. To 
retaliate an invasion of England, Surrey advanced into Ber- 
wickshire at the head of considerable forces, but retreated, 
after taking the inconsiderable fortress of Ayton. " — Scott. 

300. Surrey. Thomas Howard, Earl of Surrey, afterward 
made Duke of Norfolk, was later given command of the 



Canto I.] NOTES 213 

English forces in the North, and repulsed the Scottish king 
at Flodden. Power, army, as in Shakspere. 

301. Ayton, a town in Berwickshire. 

302. Trow, believe. 

303. Enoio, properly, the plural of enough, but used in both 
numbers. 

304. Pricked. See note on Introduction to Canto I., 294. 

305. Dunbar, a town at the mouth of the Firth of Forth. 

306. Saint Bothan, the name of a parish in Berwickshire 
which contained a convent of the Cistercians. 

307. Lauderdale, the western part of Berwickshire. 

308. Harried, plundered. Greenlaw, the capital of Ber- 
wickshire. 

309. Light to set their hoods. " The garrisons of the English 
castles of Wark, Norham, and Berwick, were, as may be easily 
supposed, very troublesome neighbours to Scotland. . . . 
The last line of the text contains a phrase, by which the Bor- 
derers jocularly intimated the burning a house. When the 
Maxwells, in 1G85, burned the castle of Lochwood, they said 
they did so to give the Lady Johnstone ' light to set her hood. ' 
Nor was the phrase inapplicable ; for, in a letter to which I 
have mislaid the reference, the Earl of Northumberland writes 
to the King and Council, that he dressed himself at midnight, 
at Warkworth, by the blaze of the neighbouring villages 
burned by the Scottish marauders. ' ' — Scott. 

312. Lack, want. 

324. Pardoner, an officer of the church licensed to sell par- 
dons. 

337. An allusion to the hardships of the siege. 

338. Durham aisle. Here aisle is used for cathedral. 

340. Woe betide, unluckily. 

341. Too well in case, too stout. 

342. The priest of Shores^nood. ' ' This churchman seems to 
have been akin to Welsh, the vicar of St. Thomas of Exeter, 
a leader among the Cornish insurgents in 1549. ' This man,' 
says Hollinshed, ' had many good things in him. He was of no 
great stature, but well set, and raightilie compact : he was a 
very good w^restler ; shot well, both in the long-bow, and also 
in the cross-bow ; he handled his hand-gun and peece very 
w^ell ; he was a very good woodman, and a hardie, and such a 
one as would not give his head for the polling, or his beard 
for the washing. He was a companion in any exercise of ac- 
tivitie, and of a courteous and gentle behaviour. He de- 
scended of a good, honest parentage, being borne at Peneverin, 



214 MARMION [Canto I. 

in Cornwall ; and yet, in this rebellion, an arch-captain, and 
a principal doer.' This model of clerical talents had the mis- 
fortune to be hanged upon the steeple of his own church." — 
Scott. 

Shoreswood and Tillmouth (1. 346) are villages near Norham. 

351. Holy- Rood, the royal palace in Edinburgh. 

354. Saint Bede, the Venerable Bede, an early English 
scholar. His day is May 27th. 

362. Shrieve, shrive. 

368. Woe were we. Woe seems to be used here as a predicate 
adjective. Cf. Cymheline, v. , 5, " My heart is woe. ' ' 

372. Tables, backgammon. 

384. Crabs, crabapples. 

387. Fay, faith. 

389. Palmer. * * A Palmer, opposed to a Pilgrim, was one 
who made it his sole business to visit different holy shrines, 
travelling incessantly, and subsisting by charity ; whereas the 
Pilgrim retired to his usual home and occupations, when he 
had paid his devotions at the particular spot which was the 
object of his pilgrimage. ' ' — Scott. 

The name seems to have come from the practice of bringing 
palm branches back from the East. 

390. Salem, Jerusalem. 

391. The blessed tomb, the Holy Sepulchre. 

400. Dint, stroke. Levin. See note on Introduction to 
Canto I., 73. 

402. Saint James's cockle-shell. Pilgrims to the shrine of 
Saint James in Galicia brought back shells as tokens of their 
pilgrimage. 

403. Montserrat, a mountain in northeast Spain with a 
Benedictine abbey on it. 

404. A7id of that Grot, etc. Saint Rosalie was a lady of 
Palermo, who forsook the world, and lived in a cleft of rock 
in such an inaccessible spot that it was believed that she was 
carried thither by angels. A chapel was built on the place 
where her body was found. 

408. Saint George of Norwich merry. The cult of Saint 
George seems early to have been associated with festivities. 
In Norwich there was a guild of St. George. 

409. Saint TJiomas, Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, mur- 
dered in 1170. His tomb was a famous resort for pilgrims. 

410. Cuthbert. See below on II., 356. 



I 



Canto I.] NOTES 215 

421. Oramercy, from grand merci, much thanks. 

428. Cockle-shell. 8ee above on 402. 

429. Angels. See above on 146. 

430. Still, always. 
447. As, as if. 

453. Aces, invocations to the Virgin, beginning "Ave 
Maria." It has been pointed out that "ten aves and two 
creeds ' ' do not represent any specific part of tlie rosary. 

465. The scallop shell. Pilgrims from Palestine also wore 
the scallop shell. See on 402, above. 

467. Loretto, on the east coast of Italy. Here was the famous 
shrine, containing a house supposed to have been the Virgin's 
dwelling at Nazareth. 

472. When as, an intensive form of lolien. 

500. &o, if. 

504. Bound, the past participle of hoivne, to prepare. See 
below, IV., 487. Bound came to be used especially in cases 
where the idea of going was prominent, while houne was re- 
served for the broader meaning, prepared. See Lady of the 
Lake, VI., xv., 28. " To hero boune for battle strife." 

506. Saint Ride. "Saint Regulus [Scottice, St. Rule), a 
monk of Patraej in Achaia, warned by a vision, is said, a.d. 
370, to have sailed westward, until he landed at St. Andrew's, 
in Scotland, where he founded a chapel and tower. The latter 
is still standing ; and, though we may doubt the precise date 
of its foundation, is certainly one of the most ancient edifices 
in Scotland. A cave, nearly fronting the ruinous castle of the 
Archbishops of St. Andrew's, bears the name of this religious 
person. It is difficult of access, and the rock in which it is 
hewed is washed by the German ocean. It is nearly round, 
about ten feet in diameter, and the same in height. On one 
side is a sort of stone altar ; on the other an aperture into an 
inner den, where the miserable ascetic, who inhabited this 
dwelling, probably slept. At full tide, egress and regress is 
hardly practicable, " — Scott. 

509. Saint Fillan's. "Saint Fillan was a Scottish saint of 
some reputation. . . . There are in Perthshire several wells 
and springs dedicated to St. Fillan, which are still places of 
pilgrimage and offerings, even among the Protestants. They 
are held powerful in cases of madness ; and, in some of very late 
occurrence, lunatics have been left all night bound to the holy 
stone, in confidence that the saint would cure and unloose 
them before morning. [See various notes to the Minstrelsy of 
the Scottish Border. y' — Scott, 



216 MARMION [Introduction to 

One of Saint Fillan's springs is mentioned in The Lady of 
the Lake, Introduction : 

" Harp of the North, that mouldering long hast hung 
On the witch elm that shades Saint Fillan's spring." 

534. Hasty mass, a mass shortened for special occasions. 
538. &timip-cup, a cup of wine drunk by the guest after 
mounting to depart. 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO II. 

The Reverend John Harriot was tlie tutor of Lord Scott, 
son of the Earl of Dalkeith, who afterward succeeded to the 
dukedom of Buccleuch. Harriot had contributed to The 
Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border. 

2. Wiere flourished once afforest fair. **Ettrick Forest, 
now a range of mountainous sheep-walks, was anciently re- 
served for the pleasure of the royal chase. Since it was dis- 
parked, the wood has been, by degrees, almost totally de- 
stroyed. ' ' — Scott. 

15. Rowan, mountain ash. 

32. Neivark, on the Yarrow, near Selkirk. . Newark Castle 
was one of the possessions of the house of Buccleuch. In this 
castle the Last Minstrel sings his Lay to the Duchess of Buc- 
cleuch. 

33. Scottish monarch. Newark was built by James 11. 
Power. See on I., 300. 

41. Leash. See on I., 284. Oazehound, a hound which, 
like the greyhound, runs by sight, not by scent. 

42. Bratchet, "slowhound." — Scott. Brach is used in 
Shakspere for a hound that runs by scent. "Hound or span- 
iel, brach or lym," King Lear, iii., vi. 

45. Quarry, the game. 

48. Harquehiiss, the same as arquebus, a heavy musket. 

55. Where erst the outlaio. * ' The tale of the Outlaw Hur- 
ray, who held out Newark Castle and Ettrick Forest against 
the King, may be found in the Border Minstrelsy, vol, i." — 
Scott. 

61. Holt, wood. 

73. Boivhill, a residence of the Earl of Dalkeith, used by 
him as a shooting-lodge. 

82. Fair as the elves. For the reference see the ballad. 
Young Tamlane, in Scott's Border Minstrelsy. 



Canto II.] NOTES 217 

83. Dance. The fairies ride in the ballad. Carterhaugh, 
a plain at the continence of the Ettrick and the Yarrow, the 
scene of the ballad Young Tamlane. 

84. Youthful Baron, Lord Scott. 

85. Forest-Sheriff"' s. See Introduction, page ix. 

87. OberoiL, the King of the Fairies. 

88. She, Harriet, the wife of the Earl of Dalkeith. 

106. Long descended lord. "The late Alexander Pringle, 
Esq. , of Whytbank — whose beautiful seat of the Yair stands 
on the Tweed, about two miles below Ashestiel, the then resi- 
dence of the poet. ' ' — Lockhart. 

108. Boys, the sons of Mr. Pringle. 

113. Wallace, the old hero of Scotland, who fought for her 
independence against Edward I. Wight, active or warlike. 

114. His airy monnd. "There is, on a high mountainous 
ridge above the farm of Ashestiel, a fosse called Wallace's 
Trench. ' ' — Scott. 

133. Bent, slope. 

147. Lone Saint Mary's silent lake. "This beautiful sheet 
of water forms the reservoir from which the Yarrow takes its 
source. It is connected with a smaller lake, called the Loch of 
the Lowes, and surrounded by mountains. In the winter, it 
is still frequented by flights of wild swans ; hence my friend 
Mr, Wordsworth's lines : — 

" ' The swan on sweet St. Mary's lake 

Floats double, swan and shadow.' "—Scott. 

156. Shaggy, literally, hairy, rough. See II., 117. 

177. Our Lady's chapel. "The chapel of St. Mary of the 
Lowes {de lacubus) was situated on the eastern side of the 
lake, to which it gives name. It was injured by the clan of 
Scott, in a feud with the Cranstouns ; but continued to be a 
place of worship during the seventeenth century. The vestiges 
of the building can now scarcely be traced ; but the burial- 
ground is still used as a cemetery. A funeral, in a spot so very 
retired, has an uncommonly striking effect. The vestiges of 
the chaplain's house are yet visible. Being in a high situa- 
tion, it commanded a full view of the lake, with the opposite 
mountain of Bourhope, belonging, with the lake itself, to 
Lord Napier. On the left hand is the tower of Dryhope. " — 
Scott. 

186. Sa?ne peaceful hermitage. See Milton's 11 Penseroso, 
lines 167 ff. 

189. Bourhope' s. See above on line 177. 

196. Yarrow'' s faded Flower. "Near the lower extremity 



218 MAR MI ON [Introduction to 

of the lake are the ruins of Dryhope Tower, the birthplace of 
Mary Scc^tt, daughter of Philip Scott of Dryhope, and famous 
by the traditional name of the Flower of Yarrow. She was 
married to Walter Scott of Harden, no less renowned for his 
depredations than his bride for her beauty. Her romantic ap- 
pellation was, in latter days, with equal justice, conferred on 
Miss Mary Lilias Scott, the last of the elder branch of the 
Harden family. The author well remembers the talent and 
spirit of the latter Flower of Yarrow, though age had then in- 
jured the charms which procured her the name. The words 
usually sung to the air of ' Tweedside, ' beginning * What beau- 
ties does Flora disclose,' were composed in her honour." — 
Scott. 

202. Wizard's grave. " At one corner of the burial-ground 
of the demolished chapel, but without its precincts, is a small 
mound, called Binram'' s Corse, where tradition deposits the 
remains of a necromantic priest, the former tenant of the chap- 
lainry. His story much resembles that of Ambrosio in The 
3Io7ik, and has been made the theme of a ballad by my friend 
Mr. James Hogg, more poetically designated the Ettrick Shep- 
herd. To his volume, entitled TJie Mountain Bard, which 
contains this, and many other legendary stories and ballads of 
great merit, 1 refer the curious reader." — Scott. 

219. Bittern, a wading-bird allied to the heron. 

239. LocJi Skene. "Loch Skene is a mountain lake, of con- 
siderable size, at the head of the Moffat-water. The character 
of the scenery is uncommonly savage ; and the earn, or Scot- 
tish eagle, has, for many ages, built its nest yearly upon an 
islet in the lake. Loch Skene discharges itself into a brook, 
which, after a short and precipitate course, falls from a cata- 
ract of immense height, and gloomy grandeur, called, from its 
appearance, the 'Gray Mare's Tail.' The ' Gfiant's Grave,' 
afterwards mentioned, is a sort of trench, which bears that 
name, a little way from the foot of the cataract. It has the 
appearance of a battery, designed to command the pass. ' ' — 
Scott. 

259. Linn, here, cataract. Cf. The Lady of the Lake, Canto 
VI., xviii., 34 : 

"As Brackliun's chasm, so black and steep, 
Receives her roaring linn.'''' 

See also Introduction to Canto I. , line 3. 

261. Giant's Grave. See above on line 239. 

264. Isis. The river that flow^s into the Thames at Oxford. 
Marriot was at Oxford when he made his contributions to the 
Border Minstrelsy. 



Canto II.] NOTES 219 



CANTO II. 

1. TJie breeze, etc. x\ll editions of Ilarmion until Mr. 
Rolfe's placed a full stop after "hold " in line 5, thus making 
' ' breeze ' ' the subject of ' ' rolled. ' ' Undoubtedly the sentence 
is to be carried on by * * it " in line 6. 

9. High WhUbi/t) cloister' d jnle. "The Abbey of AVhitby, 
on the coast of Yorkshire, was founded A. d. 657, in conse- 
quence of a vow of Oswy, King of iN^orthumberland. It con- 
tained both monks and nuns of the Benedictine order ; but, 
contrary to what was usual in such establishments, the abbess 
was superior to the abbot. The monastery was afterwards 
ruined by the Danes, and rebuilded by William Percy, in the 
reign of the Conqueror. There were no nuns there in Henry 
the Eighth's time, nor long before it. The ruins of Whitby 
Abbey are very magnificent. ' ' — Scott, 

10. Saint CuthberVs Holy Isle. " Lindisfarne, an isle on 
the coast of Northumberland, was called Holy Island, from 
the sanctity of its ancient monastery, and from its having 
been the Episcopal seat of the see of Durham during the early 
ages of British Christianity. A succession of holy men held 
that office ; but their merits were swallowed up in the supe- 
rior fame of St. Cuthbert, who was sixth bishop of Durham, 
and who bestowed the name of his ' patrimony ' upon the ex- 
tensive property of the see. The ruins of the monastery upon 
Holy Island betoken great antiquity. The arches are. in gen- 
eral, strictly Saxon ; and the pillars w^hich support them, 
short, strong, and massy. In some places, however, there are 
pointed Avindows, which indicate that the building has been 
repaired at a period long subsequent to the original founda- 
tion. The exterior ornaments of the building, being of a 
light sandy stone, have been wasted, as described in the text. 
Lindisfarne is not properly an island, but rather, as the Ven- 
erable Bede has termed it, a semi-isle ; for, although sur- 
rounded by the sea at full tide, the ebb leaves the sands dry 
between it and the opposite coast of Northumberland, from 
which it is about three miles distant. " — Scott. 

30. Benedicite. The beginning of the Latin canticle JBene- 
dicite omnia opera, " O all ye works of the Lord, bless ye the 
Lord." 

33. Seadog, the seal. 

36. Still, ever, always. 

39. Dedicated, consecrated. 

44. Novice. A nun in the year of her probation was called a 



220 MARMION [Canto II. 

novice. She had not taken the vows as yet, and might return 
to the world instead of following a holy life. 

70. Benedi<Mne school. Saint Benedict established the 
strictest of the earlier religious orders at Monte Cassino in 
the sixth century. His order and system spread over Europe, 
and became the typical monastic system of the West. 

82. TynemouWs Prioress. See note on 371. 

83. Chapter of Saint Benedict, a meeting of the heads of the 
Benedictine Houses. Chapter is from the Latin caput, head. 

119. Hath pacified, etc., an allusion to Una, attended and 
protected by a lion, in Book i. of The Faerie Queene. 
124. Pr(2c•^^^e6Z, plotted, as often in Shakspere. Cf. 

" That under covert and convenient seeming 
Hast practis'd on man's life."— ^m^ Lear, iii., ii. 

Bowl and knife, poison and steel. 

132. Monk- Wear mouth, a monastery at the mouth of the 
Wear. 

133. Tynemouth's. See note on 371. 

135. Beaton- Delaval., the home of the Delavals. 

136. Blythe and Wansbeck floods, two small rivers flowing 
into the North Sea. 

138. Widderington, a castle belonging to the Witheringtons, 
one of whom distinguished himself at Chevy Chase : 

" For Wetharryngtou my harte was wo, 
That ever he slayne shoulde be ; 
For when both his leggis wear hevvyne in to 
He knyied and fought on hys \iiie.''— Ballad of Chevy Chase. 

140. Coquet-isle, a small island off the mouth of the Coquet 
river. 

142. Alne, a river of Northumberland. 

143. Warkworth, the chief castle of the Percy family, south 
of the Alne and somewhat back from the coast. 

147. Bu/nstanborough, a castle, now in ruins, dating from 
the time of Edward II. 

148. Bamborough, a castle on the site of the palace of King 
Ida, a Northumbrian king of the sixth century. 

157. See note on line 10 above. 

168. Baxon strength. The strength lay in the short, heavy 
columns and round arches. 

173. Pointed aisle, the pointed arch rising above the aisle, 
in Gothic architecture. Shafted stalk, the cluster of col- 
umns from which the arch sprang. 



Canto 1 1. J NOTES 221 

181. Rovers, the Danes, who plundered monasteries for their 
wealth. 

203. 3Ionks and nuns. The nunnery of Holy Island is alto- 
gether fictitious. 

211. Hale, draw. 

283. Three harons hold. The ''popular account" of this 
curious service, which Scott reproduces at some leng-th in 
his note, after a narrative called A True Account, printed and 
circulated at Whitby, is to the effect that in the year 1159 
three gentlemen met to hunt the boar in the domain of the 
Abbot of Whitby. The boar took refuge in the chapel of the 
hermit of Whitby, w ho shut the door on the hounds. At this 
the three huntsmen were so angry that they beat the hermit 
with their boar-staves and mortally wounded him. The 
murderers were arrested, and were in danger of suffering the 
death penalty. Before he died, however, the hermit forgave 
them on condition that they and their successors should hold 
their lands of the Abbot of Whitby, and that for them they 
should every year, on Ascension Day, perform * ' menial ser- 
vice. " They were obliged to bear on their backs to the town 
of Whitby bundles of stakes. On their arrival they were 
obliged to set the stakes at the edge of the water, and secure 
them so strongly that they should stand against three tides. 
Meanwhile the officer of Eskdale-side called, "Out on you. 
Out on you, Out on you." 

244. Edeljled. ' ' She was the daughter of King Oswy, who, 
in gratitude to Heaven for the great victory which he won in 
655, against Penda, the pagan King of Mercia, dedicated Edel- 
fleda, then but a year old, to the service of God, in the monas- 
tery of Whitby, of which St. Hilda was then abbess. She 
afterwards adorned the place of her education with great mag- 
nificence. ' ' — Scott. 

251. " These two miracles are much insisted on by all ancient 
writers who have occasion to mention either Whitby or St. 
Hilda. The relics of the snakes, which infested the precincts 
of the convent, and were at the abbess's prayer not only be- 
headed but petrified, are still found about the rocks, and are 
termed by Protestant fossilists, Ammonitw. 

' ' The other miracle is thus mentioned by Camden : ' It is 
also ascribed to the power of her sanctity, that these wild 
geese, which, in the winter, fiy in great fioeks to the lakes and 
rivers unfrozen in the southern parts, to the great amazement 
of every one, fall down suddenly upon the ground, when they 
are in their fiight over certain neighbouring fields hereabouts : 



^22 MARMIOM [Canto 11. 

a relation I should not have made, if I had not received it from 
several credible men. But those who are less inclined to heed 
superstition, attribute it to some occult quality in the ground, 
and to somewhat of antipathy between it and the geese, such 
as they say is betwixt wolves and scylla-roots : for that such 
hidden tendencies and aversions, as we call sympathies and 
antipathies, are implanted in many things by provident 
nature for the preservation of them, is a thing so evident, that 
everybody grants it.' Mr. Charlton, in his History of Whitby, 
points out the true origin of the fable, from the number of 
sea-gulls that, when flying from a storm, often alight near 
Whitby ; and from the woodcocks, and other birds of passage, 
who do the same upon their arrival on shore, after a long 
flight." — Scott. 

256. His body's resting-place. "St. Cuthbert was, in the 
choice of his sepulchre, one of the most mutable and unrea- 
sonable saints in the Calendar. He died A. D. 686, in a hermit- 
age upon the Fame Islands, having resigned the bishopric of 
Lindisfarne, or Holy Island, about two years before. His body 
was brought to Lindisfarne, where it remained until a descent 
of the Danes, about 763, when the monastery was nearly de- 
stroyed. The monks fled to Scotland, with what they deemed 
their chief treasure, the relics of St. Cuthbert. The Saint was, 
however, a most capricious fellow-traveller ; which was the 
more intolerable, as, like Sinbad's Old Man of the Sea, he jour- 
neyed upon the shoulders of his companions. They paraded 
him through Scotland for several years, and came as far west as 
Whithern, in Galloway, whence they attempted to sail for Ire- 
land, but were driven back by tempests. He at length made a 
halt at Norham ; from thence he went to Melrose, where he 
remained stationary for a short time, and then caused him- 
self to be launched upon the Tweed in a stone coffin, 
which landed him at Tilmouth, in Northumberland. This 
boat is finely shaped, ten feet long, three feet and a half in di- 
ameter, and only four inches thick ; so that, with very little 
assistance, it might certainly have swam. It still lies, or at 
least did so a few years ago, in two pieces, beside the ruined 
chapel of Tilmouth. From Tilmouth, Cuthbert wandered 
into Yorkshire ; and at length made a long stay at Chester-le- 
Street, to which the bishop's see was transferred. At length, 
the Danes continuing to infest the country, the monks re- 
moved to Rippon for a season ; and it was in return from 
thence to Chester-le-Street, that, passing through a forest 
called Dunholme, the Saint and his carriage became immov- 
able at a place named Wardlaw, or Wardilaw. Here the Saint 
chose his place of residence ; and all who have seen Durham 
must admit, that, if difficult in his choice, he evinced taste in 
at length fixing it. It is said that the J^forthumbrian Catho- 



Canto II.] NOTEIS 223 

lies still keep secret the precise spot of the Saint's sepulture, 
which is only intrusted to three persons at a time. When one 
dies, the survivors associate to them, in his room, a person 
judged fit to be the depositary of so valuable a secret." — 
Scott. 

"The resting-place of the remains of this Saint is not now 
matter of uncertainty. So recently as 17th May, 1827, 1139 
years after his death, their discovery and disinterment were 
effected. Under a blue stone, in the middle of the shrine of 
St. Cuthbert, at the eastern extremity of the choir of Durham 
Cathedral, there was then found a walled grave, containing 
the coffins of the Saint. The first, or outer one, was ascer- 
tained to be that of 1541, the second of 1041 ; the third, or in- 
ner one, answering in every particular to the description of 
that of 698, was found to contain, not indeed, as had been 
averred then, and even until 1589, the incorruptible body, but 
the entire skeleton of the Saint ; the bottom of the grave be- 
ing perfectly dry, free from offensive smell, and without the 
slightest symptom that a human body had ever undergone de- 
composition within its walls. The skeleton was found 
swathed in five silk robes of emblematical embroidery, the or- 
namental parts laid with gold leaf and these again covered 
with a robe of linen. Beside the skeleton were also deposited 
several gold and silver insignia, and other relics of the Saint. " 

— LOCKHART. 

263. Melrose. Melrose Abbey, described in Canto II. of 
Tl^e Lay of the Last Minstrel. 

280. Durham- s Gothic shade. Durham Cathedral at Dur- 
ham on the Wear is a splendid example of English Gothic 
architecture. 

287. Even Scotland's dauntless king. "Every one has 
heard, that when David I., with his son Henry, invaded Nor- 
thumberland in 1136, the English host marched against them 
under the holy banner of St. Cuthbert ; to the efficacy of 
which was imputed the great victory which they obtained in 
the bloody battle of jSforthallerton, or Cuton-moor. The con- 
querors were at least as much indebted to the jealousy and 
intractability of the different tribes who composed David's 
army ; among whom, as mentioned in the text, were the Gal- 
wegians, the Britons of Strath- Clyde, the men of Teviotdale 
and Lothian, with many Norman and German warriors, who 
asserted the cause of the Empress Maud. See Chalmers's Cale- 
donia, vol. i., p. 622 ; a most laborious, curious, and interesting 
publication, from which considerable defects of style and man- 
ner ought not to turn aside the Scottish antiquary. " — Scott. 

289. Gahregiajis, men of Galloway, a district in the extreme 
southwest of Scotland. 



224 MARMION [Camo II. 

290. Lodon, or Lothian, the district south of the Firth of 
Forth wliich includes Edinburgli. 

291. Teviotdale^ the vale of the Teviot, which flows just 
north of the Cheviot Hills. 

293. 'Twas he, etc. " Cuthbert, we have seen, had no great 
reason to spare the Danes, Avhen opportunity offered. Accord- 
ingly, I find in Simeon of Durham, that the Saint appeared 
in a vision to Alfred, when lurking in the marches of Glaston- 
bury, and promised him assistance and victory over his heathen 
enemies ; a consolation which, as was reasonable, Alfred, 
after the battle of Ashendown, rewarded, by a royal offering 
at the shrine of the Saint. As to William the Conqueror, the 
terror spread before his army, when he marched to punish the 
revolt of the Northumbrians, in 1096, had forced the monks to 
fly once more to Holy Island with the body of the Saint. It 
was, however, replaced before William left the North ; and, 
to balance accounts, the Conqueror having intimated an in- 
discreet curiosity to view the Saint's body, he was, while in 
the act of commanding the shrine to be opened, seized with 
heat and sickness, accompanied with such a panic terror, that, 
notwithstanding there was a sumptuous dinner prepared for 
him, he fled without eating a morsel (which the monkish his- 
torian seems to have thought no small part both of the mira- 
cle and the penance,) and never drew his bridle till he got to 
the river Tees." — Scott. 

296. Bowyer, bowman. 

300. Saint Cuthhert sits. "Although we do not learn that 
Cuthbert was, during his life, such an artiflcer as Dunstan, his 
brother in sanctity, yet, since his death, he has acquired the 
reputation of forging those Entrochi which are found among 
the rocks of Holy Island, and pass there by the name of St. 
Cuthbert's beads. While at this task, he is supposed to sit 
during the night upon a certain rock, and use another as his 
anvil. This story was perhaps credited in former days ; at 
least the Saint's legend contains some not more probable." — 
Scott. 

316. Old Columlf. " Ceolwulf, or Colwulf, King of Nor- 
thumberland, flourished in the eighth century. He was a man 
of some learning ; for the Venerable Bede dedicates to him his 
Ecclesiastical History. He abdicated the throne about 738, 
and retired to Holy Island, where he died in the odor of sanc- 
tity. Saint as Colwulf was, however, I fear the foundation of 
the penance-vault does not correspond with his character ; for 
it is recorded among his memorabilia, that, finding the air of 
the island raw and cold, he indulged the monks, whose rule 
had hitherto confined them to milk or water, with the com- 
fortable privilege of using wine or ale. If any rigid anti- 



Canto II.] NOTES ^25 

quary insists on this objection, he is welcome to suppose the 
penance-vault was intended, by the founder, for the more 
genial purposes of a cellar. 

' ' These penitential vaults were the Geissel-gewolhe of Ger- 
man convents. In the earlier and more rigid times of monas- 
tic discipline, they were sometimes used as a cemetery for the 
lay Ijenefactors of the convent, whose unsanctified corpses were 
then seldom permitted to pollute the choir. They also served 
as places of meeting for the chapter, when measures of uncom- 
mon severity were to be adopted. But their most frequent use, 
as implied by the name, was as places for performing penances, 
or undergoing punishment." — Scott. 

324. Sexhelm, a Saxon bishop of the tenth century. 

346. Wore, for worn. See I., 360. 

350. Cresset, "antique chandelier. "—Scott. 

371. Tynemoiith's haughty prioress. "That there was an 
ancient priory at Tynemouth is certain. Its ruins are sit- 
uated on a high, rocky point ; and doubtless many a vow was 
made to the shrine by the distressed mariners, Avho drove tow- 
ards the iron-bound coast of Northumberland in stormy 
weather. It was anciently a nunnery ; for Virca, abbess of 
Tynemouth, presented St. Cuthbert (yet alive) with a rare 
winding-sheet, in emulation of a holy lady called Tuda, who 
had sent him a coffin. But, as in the case of Whitby, and of 
Holy Island, the introduction of nuns at Tynemouth, in the 
reign of Henry VIII., is an anachronism. The nunnery at 
Holy Island is altogether fictitious. Indeed, St. Cuthbert' was 
unlikely to permit such an establishment ; for, notwithstand- 
ing his accepting the mortuary gifts above mentioned, and his 
carrying on a visiting acquaintance with the abbess of Colding- 
ham, he certainly hated the whole female sex ; and, in revenge 
of a slippery trick played to him by an Irish princess, he, after 
death, inflicted severe penances on such as presumed to ap- 
proach within a certain distance of his shrine. ' ' — Scott. 

376. Ruth, pity. 

378. Style, title. 

388. Doublet breast, the breast of her doublet or under-coat. 

398. Fontexraud, a village in France, on the Loire, where 
there was a very rich abbey. The buildings are now used as a 
prison. 

408. But, except. 

438. Grisly, horrible. 

450. Chose. See 346. 

452. Envy is used in its older and stronger meaning of 
malice. "For envy they had delivered him.'* — Matthew 
xxvii. 18. 



226 MARMION [Canto II. 

458. Still, ever. 

468. Alive untliin the tomb. "It is well known, that the 
religious who broke their vows of chastity, were subjected to 
the same penalty as tlie Roman vestals in a similar case. A 
small niche, sufficient to enclose their bodies, was made in the 
massive wall of the convent ; a slender pittance of food and 
water was deposited in it, and the awful words, Vade in Pacem, 
were the signal for immuring the criminal. It is not likely 
that, in latter times, this punishment was often resorted to ; 
but, among the ruins of the abbey of Coldingham, were some 
years ago discovered the remains of a female skeleton, which 
from the shape of the niche, and position of the figure, seemed 
to be that of an immured nun. " — Scott. 

" The Edinburgh Reviewer, on st. xxxii. post, suggests that 
the proper reading of the sentence is vade in pace?n~not part 
in peace, but go into peace, or into eternal rest, a pretty in- 
telligible mittimus to another world. " — Lockhart. 

520. Plight, the past participle of "plight, " promise. Many 
editions read /a^e for /oii(7i. If this be correct plight must be 
interpreted as folded, or twined, the modern pleat. 

523. Mortal, deadly. The wager of battle was the most 
solemn form of trial known to the Middle Ages. Each com- 
batant, accuser and accused, was first obliged to take oath as 
to the justice of his cause. This solemnity in itself would go 
far toward unnerving the guilty man. Whichever of the 
two was worsted was obliged to undergo the punishment of 
the offence in question. Thus if Marmion had been over- 
thrown by De Wilton he might have suffered the penalty for 
treason. The defeated knight was degraded ; his spurs were 
broken off, his sword shattered, his horse's tail cut off. 
If he lived, he was an outcast ; if he died, his body was dis- 
honored. 

526. In the rest See note on I., 222. 

530. Block, the place of beheading, to which De Wilton 
might as a traitor have been sent. The combination of figura- 
tive and literal statement, "Marmion to the sky, De Wilton 
to the block," is awkward, even for Scott. Some editors 
point thus : 

Shout, " Marmion, Marmion ! " to the sky, 
" De Wilton to the block ! " 

537. How true he fell, an elliptical expression for, How true 
he was who fell. 

569. Living tomb, tomb for the living, a case in which the 



Canto 111.] NOTES 227 

adjective takes the place of a phrase. Shakspere offers a mul- 
titude of examples of similar use. Cf. "This eternal blazon 
must not be to ears of flesh and blood," for "this blazon of 
eternal things. " — Hamlet, i., v. 

575. Behind, a darker hour ascends. This is a prophecy of 
the ruin that overtook the church in England more than 
twenty years later, when Henry VIII. suppressed the monas- 
teries. 

576. Crosier, the staff of an ecclesiastic. The word comes 
from the Low Latin crocea, which is the same in root as the 
English crook. The crosier proper was in the form of a 
shepherd's crook. 

587. Wont is now used only as a participle. Scott seems to 
recognize the verb ' ' to wont, " to be accustomed, a derivation 
of the Old English " wone, " to dwell. 

588. stared, stiffened. 
598. Boom, judgment. 

620. Passing hell. The passing bell was rung when the soul 
was passing from its body, in the belief that the noise would 
frighten away the demons waiting to seize on the freed spirit. 

621. Parting, departing. 

624. Warkworth, twenty miles or more to the south of Holy 
Island. 

629. Cheviot Fell, the highest point in the Cheviots, about 
twenty miles west of Holy Island. 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO IIL 

" William Erskine, Esq., advocate. Sheriff-depute of the 
Orkneys, became a Judge of the Court of Session by the title 
of Lord Kinnedder, and died at Edinburgh in August, 1822. 
He had been from early youth the most intimate of the Poet's 
friends, and his chief confidant and adviser as to all literary 
matters. ' '— Lockhart. 

35. Those masters, the classics. 

46. Brun.sioick' s. The Duke of Brunswick was in command 
of the Prussian army at Jena, October 14, 1806, where he was 
mortally wounded. Brunswick was a commander of the old- 
fashioned type. He was born in 1735, and his military expe- 
rience covered half a century. He had been one of Frederick's 
officers, and in 1792 he had led the Prussian army against the 



228 MARMION [iNTKOI^CCTlOX TO 

French Republic. His daughter was Queen Caroline, wife of 
(ieorge the Fourth of England. At the time when Marmion 
was published (ieorge was Prince of Wales, and a Whig. He 
had quarrelled with his wife, Avho had the support and friend- 
ship of the Tories. Scott's unstinted praise of Brunswick 
seems to have had thus a political significance. Hearse. See 
note on Introduction to Canto L, 199. 

49. That gloria as time, the Seven Years' War, 1756-G3, in 
which Frederick the Second of Prussia, with some assistance 
from England, crushed a coalition composed of Russia, Aus- 
tria, France, Saxony, and Sweden. 

54. Brandenburg. The royal house of Prussia originally held 
the Electorate of Brandenburg. Frederick III., Elector of 
Brandenburg, became King of Prussia in 1701. 

59. And crush that dragon in its birth. Brunswick led the 
Prussian and Austrian armies toward Paris in 1792, but was 
checked at Valmy, and hence failed to crush the " dragon," 
the French Republic. 

64. And snatch'' d the spear, etc. The Prussians refused to 
join the coalition of 1805 against France, preferring to trust 
the friendship of Napoleon. In 1806, after Napoleon had en- 
tirely crushed the coalition, Prussia, single-handed, attacked 
France. 

65. Valour and skill, etc. The campaign was characterized 
on the part of the Prussians by rashness and stupidity. 

67. Seem'd, befitted. 

69. Princedoms reft, etc. At the treaty of Tilsitt, in 1807, 
Napoleon made Prussia's share of Poland into the Grand 
Duchy of Warsaw, which he gave to Saxony. The dominions 
of the Elector of Hesse, those of the Duke of Brunswick, and 
all of Prussia, west of the Elbe, were combined into the King- 
dom of Westphalia, of which Napoleon's brother Jerome was 
made king. 

78. Arminius. The German leader Herman defeated the 
legions of Augustus under Varus, in A.D. 9, and prevented the 
Roman Empire from extending over Germany. 

81. Red- Cross hero. Sir Sidney Smith, the English Admiral, 
became a member of the Order of the Knights Templar in 
1799. He was at that time given a red cross of the order, 
which, according to tradition, had belonged to Richard Coeur- 
de-Lion. 

83. Dauntless in dungeon, etc. Smith commanded several 
expeditions against the French coast, on one of which he was 



Canto III.] NOTES 229 

captured, and imprisoned in the Temple at Paris for two 
years before he escaped. 

86. /Shatter'' d walls. These are the walls of Acre, which 
Smith, with a few British sailors and the Turkish garrison, 
held for two months against Napoleon, when the latter was 
carrying his Egyptian campaign into Syria. Napoleon w^as 
finally forced to fall back, and ' ' miss his destiny ' ' as con- 
queror of the East. 

91. Stubborn Russ, etc. Smith was once in the Swedish 
service against Russia. MetaVd. See note on Introduction 
to Canto I., 308. 

92. Waj^p'd, ruffled, or perhaps frozen, Cf. As You Like 
It, ii., vii., "Though thou the waters w^arp." 

94. The father of the fight, Sir Ralph Abercromby, under 
whom Smith served at the battle of Aboukir in 1801. He was 
victorious, but mortally wounded. 

101. Silver Avon's. Shaksi3ere was born at Stratford-on- 
Avon. 

103. Bold Enchantress. Joanna Baillie was born in Lanark- 
shire in 1762. She had published by 1808 several volumes of 
poems and plays. In her dramas she undertook to deal with 
the various passions of men, treating each one in a tragedy 
and in a comedy. 

106. Kindred measure, a measure akin to Shakspere's. Miss 
Baillie's dramas "have neither passion, interest, nor char- 
acter. " 

108. Montfort and Basil, chai-acters in two of Miss Baillie's 
dramas. 

130. Batavia, the capital of the Dutch East Indies, built, 
with its "whitened walls" and canals, to resemble the cities 
of Holland. 

139. Plaid, the bright-colored woollen cloth worn by the 
Highlanders. 

149. Lochaber, a wild district north of the Grampian Hills. 

150. Devon's meads. Devon is a very fertile county in the 
southwestern part of England. 

151. Ben Nevis, one of the mountains of Lochaber. Garry's 
lake, a small lake in Inverness. 

152. Ape, imitate, with no suggestion of unpleasant mean- 
ing. See Introduction to Canto II. , 86. 

159. For the influence of scenery on Scott's development, see 
Introduction. 



230 MARMION [Canto III. 

178. Shatter" d toiver. "Smailholin tower, in Berwickshire, 
the scene of the author's infancy, is situated about two miles 
from Dry burgh Abbey." — Lockhart. 

180. Aged hind, " Auld Sandy Ormiston, " the cow-herd on 
Scott's grandfather's farm at Sandy-Knowe. 

183. Strength^ strong place. Cf. "God is our refuge and 
our strength. ' ' 

194. Sleights, stratagems. 

197. Wight See note on Introduction to Ganto II., 113. 
Bruce, Robert Bruce, who defeated the English at Bannock- 
bourn. 

201. Scarlet ranks, the English troops. The Highlanders, 
under Dundee, won the battle of Killiecrankie, in 1689, by a 
headlong charge. See Macaulay's spirited description in his 
History of England, chapter xiii. 

211. Grey-hair' d Sire, "Robert Scott of Sandy-Know^e, the 
grandfather of the poet. " — Lockhart. 

216. Doom. See note on II., 598. "Upon revising the 
Poem, it seems proper to mention that the lines, 

" ' Whose doom discording neighbours sought 
Content with equity unbought : ' 

have been unconsciously borrowed from a passage in Dryden's 
beautiful epistle to John Driden of Chesterton. " — Scott. 

218. Venerable Priest. " The reverend gentleman alluded 
to was Mr. John Martin, minister of Mertoun, in which parish 
Smailholm Tower is situated." — Lockhart. 

223. Timeless, unseasonable. 

225. Imp. See note on Introduction to Canto I. , 37. Gran- 
dame's child, spoiled child. 



CANTO III. 

6. Merse. The Merse, or March, was the southern part of 
Berwickshire, on the English Border. 

16. Wan, a Scotch form for won. 

17. Ptarmigan, a bird of the grouse family, brown in sum- 
mer but turning white in winter. Cf. The Lady of the Lake, 

II., XXV., 

"his eagle eye 
The ptarmigan in snow could spy." 

19. Lammermoor. The Lammermoor Hills lie between the 
Tweed and Haddington. 



Caxto III.] NOTES 231 

22. OldGifford. ''The village of Gifford lies about four 
miles from Haddington ; close to it is Tester House, the seat 
of the Marquis of Tweeddale, and a little further up the 
stream, which descends from the hills of Lammermoor, are the 
remains of the old castle of the family. " — Lockhart. 

31. Bush and flag 071. These were the ordinary signs of an 
inn, or wine-house. The use of the bush arose from the fact 
that the ivy was sacred to Bacchus. 

33. The Tillage inn. "The accommodations of a Scottish 
hostelrie, or inn, in the 16th century, may be collected from 
Dunbar's admirable tale of The Friars of Berunck. Simon 
Lawder, 'the gay ostlier, ' seems to have lived very comfort- 
ably ; and his wife decorated her person with a scarlet kirtle, 
and a belt of silk and silver, and rings upon her fingers ; and 
feasted her paramour with rabbits, capons, partridges, and 
Bourdeaux wine. At least, if the Scottish inns were not good, 
it w^as nOt for want of encouragement from the Legislature ; 
who, so early as the reign of James I., not only enacted that 
in all boroughs and fairs there be hostellaries, having stables 
and chambers, and provision for man and horse, but by an- 
other statute, ordained that no man, travelling on horse or 
foot, should presume to lodge anywhere except in these hostel- 
laries : and that no person, save innkeepers, should receive 
such travellers, under the penalty of forty shillings, for exer- 
cising such hospitality. But in spite of these provident en- 
actments, the Scottish hostels are but indifferent, and strangers 
continue to find reception in the houses of individuals." — 
Scott. 

47. Cheer is here used in its acquired sense for that which 
gives rise to joyful feeling and expression. See notes on In- 
troduction to Canto IV., 128, and on Y., 56. 

48. Solands. The solan-goose is found in gi*eat numbers 
along the coast of Scotland. 

49. Oammons, hams, dried and salted. 

78. Buxom, from the Anglo-Saxon hocsnm, connected with 
the verb "to bow." The word means flexible, pliant, and 
thus easy in disposition, jolly. 

79. Zemhla's. Nova Zembla is the name of a chain of 
islands north of Russia. 

106. As. See note on I., 447. 

114. So please you, an expression of respectful deprecation. 

120. Saint Valentine, sl Christian martyr who died in a.d. 
270. The allusion here is to the belief that the birds choose 
their mates on St. Valentine's Day. 



232 MARMION [Canto 111. 

122. Love-lorn, an allusion to the story of Philomela, who 
was changed into a nightingale. 

127. Lindisfarne. See note on XL, 10. 

143. Susquehanna, a river flowing through Pennsylvania 
into Chesapeake Bay. Many of the Scotch Highlanders were 
even thus early in the century leaving Scotland for America. 
The gradual giving up of farming industries and the devotion 
of large tracts of country to sheep-raising threw numbers out 
of employment and made emigration a necessity. 

188. Plain'd, sounded plaintive or sad. The root is the 
same as in ** complained. " 

217. The death of a dear friend. " Among other omens to 
which faithful credit is given among the Scottish peasantry, is 
what is called the ' dead-bell, ' explained by my friend James 
Hogg, to be that tinkling in the ear which the country people 
regard as the secret intelligence of some friend's decease. He 
tells a story to the purpose in the Mountain Bard, p. 26." — 
Scott. 

234. Vail, lower. Cf. " Vailing her high top lower than her 
ribs." — Merchant of Venice, i., i. 

243. Practised. See on II., 124. 

281. il!fa?^^Ze^', covers as by a mantle. Cf. "Visages do cream 
and mantle. ' ' — Merchant of Venice, i. , i. 

298. Sovereign's mandate, the mission which he was to ful- 
fil. 

307. Loch Vennachar, a lake in Perthshire. 

324. Clerk, scholar, as Chaucer's "clerk of Oxenford. " 

325. Alexander, King of Scotland from 1249 to 1285. 
331. Power, magic. 

333. Gohlin-Hall. * ' A vaulted hall under the ancient Castle 
of Gifford, or Tester, (for it bears either name indifferently,) 
the construction of which has from a very remote period been 
ascribed to magic. . . . Sir David Dalrymple, in his An- 
nals, relates that 'Hugh Gifford de Tester died in 1267; that 
in his castle there was a capacious cavern, formed by magical 
art, and called in the country Bo-Hall, i.e.. Hobgoblin Hall.' " 
— Scott. 

335. Cave you, permitted. 

354. Haco. "In 1263, Haco, King of Norway, came into 
the Frith of Clyde with a powerful armament, and made a 
descent at Largs, in Ayrshire. Here he was encountered and 
defeated, on the 2d October, by Alexander III. Haco re- 
treated to Orkney, where he died soon after this disgrace to his 
arms. There are still existing, near the place of battle, many 



Canto III.] NOTES 233 

barrows, some of which, having been opened, were found, as 
usual, to contain bones and urns." — Scott. 

358. Bute, Ar ran, Cunninghame, and Kyle. Bute and Arran 
are islands in the Firth of Clyde. Cunninghame and Kyle are 
divisions of Ayrshire on the mainland. 

362. Wizard habit. '* 'Magicians, as is well known, were 
very curious in the choice and form of their vestments. Their 
caps are oval, or like pyramids, with lappets on each side, and 
fur within. Their gowns are long, and furred with fox-skins, 
under which they have a linen garment reaching to the knee. 
Their girdles are three inches broad, and have many cabalisti- 
cal names, with crosses, trines, and circles inscribed on them. 
Their shoes should be of new russet leather, with a cross cut 
upon them. Their knives are dagger-fashion ; and their 
swords have neither guard nor scabbard. ' — See these, and many 
other particulars, in the Discourse concerning Devils and Spir- 
its, annexed to Reginald Scot's Discovery of Witchcraft, edi- 
tion of 1005." — Scott. 

307. Pharaoh's Magi, the wise men of Egypt who coped 
with Moses. 

309. Pentacle. " ' A pentacle is a piece of fine linen, folded 
with five corners, according to the five senses, and suitably in- 
scribed with characters. This the magician extends towards 
the spirits which he invokes, when they are stubborn and re- 
bellious, and refuse to be conformable unto the ceremonies 
and rites of magic' — See the Discourse, etc., above men- 
tioned. "—Scott. 

370. Zone, belt. Virgin parchment, parchment made from 
the skins of new-born lambs or kids. 

373. Combust, an astrological term indicating that the planet 
was so near the sun that it could not be distinguished. Retro- 
grade, used of planets when apparently moving from east to 
west. Trine. Planets are said to be trine when they are 120° 
apart in the zodiac. 

382. Grisly. See on II. , 438, above. 

395. Racking, broken by flying before the wind. 

407. Blessed night. "It is a popular article of faith that 
those who are born on Christmas or Good Friday have the 
power of seeing spirits and even of commanding them. The 
Spaniards imputed the haggard and downcast looks of their 
Philip 11. to the disagreeable visions to which this privilege 
subjected him." — Scott. 

408. Yawning graves, etc. See Mattheio xxvii. 50-53. 
412. Gramercy. See note on I., 421. 



234 MABMION [Canto III. 

415. TJie gift, etc. The story was untrue, as Richard Coeur- 
de-Lion died in 1199. 

416. Soothly, truly. Tide what tide, happen what may. 

417. Buffet bide, take a blow. 

420. The blood of Malcolm. Alexander was a descendant of 
Malcolm, the son of Duncan, who won Scotland from Macbeth. 

428. Couch. See note on I., 222. 

429. To speed. May Saint George speed or prosper you. 
438. Pictish race, the oldest inhabitants of Scotland known 

to history. 

444. Wight, here merely person, man. 

447. Full career, knights in full charge. 

453. EnglaiuVs King. ' ' Edward I. , surnamed Long- 
shanks. " — Scott. Edward I. was at the time mentioned 
taking part in the eighth crusade, in which he captured 
Nazareth. While he was away, his father, Henry III., died, 
in 1272, so that he became in title King of England, though 
he was not crowned until his return. 

457. Leopards. The arms of England were three leopards. 

461. Fell, cruel. Edward's massacre of eight thousand 
burghers of Berwick justifies the epithet. 

472. Largs. See note on 354. This battle was fought nine 
years before Edward was King of England. 

479. Grim 7^avens. The ravens, according to northern my- 
thology, were the sacred birds of Odin. They were represented 
on the Norse banners. 

483. a ^Hhern war. In 1801 the English fleet, under Nel- 
son, defeated the Danish fleet off Copenhagen. Again, in 
1807, when Scott was at work on Marmion, the English 
Cabinet sent an expedition to take possession of the Danish 
fleet. The Danes refused to surrender, whereupon the English 
bombarded Copenhagen, set it on fire, and took the Danish 
vessels in triumph to England. The reference is more par- 
ticularly to the second event. 

497. Start. The slight wound was occasioned by Alexan- 
der's momentary failure of heart (line 462). 

498. Dunfermline'' s nave. Dunfermline Abbey was an old 
burial-place of Scottish kings. The nave is the body of a 
church, so called from its resemblance to the hull of a ship 
(Latin, navis). 

506. Have foully sped, have fared ill. See notes on 429 
above and on VI. , 867. 



Canto IV.] NOTES 235 

508. Wallace wiglit. See Introduction to Canto II., 113. 
Gilbert Hay, the Constable of Scotland under Robert Bruce. 

510. Quaighs. " A wooden cup composed of staves hooped 
together. "—Scott. 

551. Darkling^ in the dark. Cf. the FooFs speech in King 
Leai\ i., iv. "So out went the candle, and we were left dark- 
ling." 

592. Prick'' d. See note on I., 309. 

597. Yode, " Used by old poets for loenf — Scott. 

599. Selle, saddle. 

INTRODUCTION TO CANTO lY. 

^^ James Skene, Esq., of Rubislaw, Aberdeenshire, was Cornet 
in the Royal Edinburgh Light Horse Volunteers, and Sir 
Walter Scott was Quartermaster of the same cor^Ds. " — Lock- 
hart. Skene and Scott had both taken prominent parts in 
raising this troop. Skene was a frequent visitor at Ashestiel, 

2. The line, "Where is the life that late I led," occurs in 
Tlie Taming of the Shrew, iv., i., and in Henry IV., Second 
Part, V. , iii. It is quoted both times as from an old song, so 
that the "ancient minstrel" must be some predecessor of 
Shakspere. 

3. Motley cloion, a clown clothed in motley or variegated 
colors. 

4. Ja.cqnes. Cf. As You Like It, ii., vii. 

10. Voluntary brand, sword of the volunteers. ^ 

37. Blackhouse heights. Blackhouse was the farm of William 

Laidlaw, an intimate friend of Scott. Ettrick Pen, a hill in 

Selkirkshire. 
42. Rack, flying or broken cloud. See note on III. , 395. 

45, Thou toith pencil. " Various illustrations of the poetry 
and novels of Sir Walter Scott, from designs by Mr. Skene, have 
since been published. ' ' — Lockhart. 

52. Angle, flsh-hook. 

91. "I cannot help here mentioning, that, on the night in 
Avhich these lines were written, suggested, as they were, by a 
sudden fall of snow, beginning after sunset, an unfortunate 
man perished exactly in the manner here described, and his 
body was next morning found close to his own house. The 
accident happened within five miles of the farm of Ashestiel. ' ' 
—Scott. 



236 31 ARM I ON [Introduction to 

101. Kirn. ** The Scottish Harvest-home."— Scott. 

104. Oaten reed. A conventional expression for the pastoral 
pipe. Oaten, if taken literally, indicates that the pipe was of 
coarse straw. Cf. Milton's Comits, 345. ** Sound of pastoral 
reed with oaten stops. ' ' 

105. Arcadia's golden creed. Arcadia was originally the 
mountainous district in the interior of the Peloponnesus. From 
the secluded and happy life of the people there the adjective 
Arcadian was applied to the golden age generally, and to the 
poetic side of pastoral life. 

112. The ancient Chief of Troy. Priam, king of Troy, was 
the father of Paris, whose elopement with Helen brought the 
Greeks upon the city. 

125. Cypress, in token of mourning ; myrtle, a sign of hap- 
piness. 

128. Joyous cheer. Cheer, from the Latin car a, originally 
meant countenance or expression, and hence needed the ad- 
jective before it. See notes on V., 56, and on III., 47. 

132. Forhes. A dissyllable. "Sir William Forbes of Pit- 
sligo. Baronet ; unequalled, perhaps, in the degree of individ- 
ual affection entertained for him by his friends, as well as in 
the general respect and esteem of Scotland at large. His Life 
of Beattie, whom he befriended and patronized in life, as well 
as celebrated after his decease, was not long published, before 
the benevolent and affectionate biographer was called to fol- 
low the subject of his narrative. This melancholy event very 
shortly succeeded the marriage of the friend, to whom this in- 
troduction is addressed, with one of Sir William's daughters. " 
—Scott. 

133. Tribute to his MinstreVs shade. The Life of Beattie, 
referred to above. Beattie was one of the feebler spirits of the 
eighteenth century, stirred to song by the romanticism of the 
age. " His original poetical power," says Mr. Saintsbury, 
' ' was almost nil. ' ' His chief poem. The Minstrel, was, how- 
ever, extremely popular for a time. 

145. Attributed, accented on the first syllable. 

147. Psalms Ixviii. 5. 

151. Proverbs xxvii. 10. 

172. Tirante, the hero of a Spanish romance bearing his 
name. Yclep'd, called, from the Anglo-Saxon verb clepan. 

174. Camp. '*A favorite dog of the poet's, a bull-terrier 
of extraordinary sagacity. He is introduced in Raeburn's 
portrait of Sir Walter Scott, now at Dalkeith Palace. " — Lock- 

HABT. 



Canto IV.] NOTES 237 

177. Laverock, lark. 

181. Ariel, the spirit in the service of Prospero in The 
Tempest. 

191. He, etc. "Colin Mackenzie, Esq.. of Portmore. " — 
LoCKHART. He was a son-in-law of Sir AVilliaiu Forbes. 

194. Rae. " Sir William Rae of St. Catharine's, Bart., sub- 
sequently Lord Advocate of Scotland, was a distinguished 
member of the volunteer corps to which Sir Walter Scott be- 
longed ; and he, the Poet, Mr. Skene, Mr. Mackenzie, and a 
few other friends, had formed themselves into a little semi- 
military club, the meetings of which were held at their family 
supper tables in rotation. ' ' — Lockhart. 

195. "The gentleman whose name the Poet might not say, 
will now, it is presumed, pardon its introduction. The late 
Sir William Forbes of Pitsligo, Bart., son of the author of the 
Life of Beattie, was another member of this volunteer corps 
and club." — Lockhart. 

196. Mimosa, the sensitive plant. 

202. jl57ia707?i, cheerful, lively. See note on III. , 78. 

206. Mad Tom's. The disguised Edgar in King Lear de- 
clare that he * ' hath had three suits to his back, six shirts 
to his body, horse to ride, and weapon to wear." — King Lear, 
iii., iv. 

CANTO IV. 

13. Becket, Thomas a Becket, Saint Thomas of Canterbury. 
See note on I. , 409. 

31. Friar Rush. "This personage is a strolling demon or 
esprit follet, who, once upon a time, got admittance into a 
monastery as a scullion, and played the monks many pranks. 
He was also a sort of Robin Goodfellow, and Jack o' Lantern. 
It is in allusion to this mischievous demon that Milton's clown 
speaks, — 

" 'She was pinched, and pulled, she said. 
And he by Friar''s lantern led.' 

''The History of Friar Rush is of extreme rarity, and, for 
some time, even the existence of such a book was doubted, al- 
though it is expressly alluded to by Reginald Scot, in his 
Diseomry of Witchcraft. I have perused a copy in the valu- 
able library of my friend Mr. Heber ; and I observe, from Mr. 
Beloe's Anecdotes of Literature, that there is one in the excel- 
lent collection of the Marquis of Stafford."— Scott. 

Friar Rush is a spirit which haunts houses. Will o' the 



238 MARMION [Canto IV. 

Wisp is the light that hovers over marshes to mislead travel- 
lers. Scott confuses them in the text and in his note. 

47. Cast, cast up, calculated. 

53. Miglish cross. The cross was the emblem used for con- 
juring away devils. 

59. Qramercy. See note on I., 421. 

GO. Humhie and Saltoun, villages in southwestern Hadding- 
ton. 

91. Caxton, or de Worde. William Caxton was the first 
English printer ; Wynken de Worde was his successor. 

99. Point of war, signal for combat. 

110. Trumpets, trumpeters. 

116. Heralds and pursuivants. See note on I., 151. 

119. Gules, Argent, Or, and Azure, red, silver, gold, and 
blue. 

121. Truncheon, a short staff. One of the duties of the 
king-at-arms was to hold the truncheon at a tournament. 
Wlien he threw it down the combat ceased. 

130. Satiric rage. See note on IV., 153. 

133. The keys of Rome, the keys of Saint Peter, which sym- 
bolized the authority of the popes. 

135. Cap of maintenance, a cap of state, of scarlet velvet 
trimmed with ermine. 

141. The double tressure. This is the double border about 
the edge of the shield which contains the coat of arms. 

142. Achaius, a king of Scotland at the time of Charle- 
magne, and the author, according to tradition, of the league 
with France. See note on IV., 578. 

143. The thistle, the emblem of Scotland. Achaius was 
the reputed founder of the Order of the Thistle. The fleur-de- 
lis, the lily flower, was the emblem of France. The fleur-de-lis 
appeared on the Scottish arms twined into the tressure. Acha- 
ius (as the story goes) adopted it to conmiemorate his alliance 
with France. As a matter of fact the Scottish arms are of 
later date than the time of Achaius. See note on IV., 578. 

144. Unicorn, a mythical animal having the head of a horse 
with a single horn in its forehead. The unicorns appeared as 
supporters of the arms of Scotland. One of them has been re- 
tained with the English lion as supporter of the British arms, 

153. Sir David Lindesay. Lindesay was born about 1490. 
In 1530 he was made Lion King-at-arms. He died in 1558. 
He wrote several long allegories in verse, which satirized the 



Canto IV.J NOTES 239 

morals of the time, and were in particular directed against the 
Church. Lindesay was the friend of John Knox, and did 
much to bring forward the cause of the Reformation in Scot- 
land. Of the Mount. The name of Lindesay 's estate. 

154. Lord Lion King-at-arms. " I am uncertain if I abuse 
poetical license, by introducing Sir David Lindesay in the char- 
acter of Lion-Herald, sixteen years before he obtained that 
office. At any rate, I am not the first who has been guilty 
of the anachronism ; for the author of Flodclen Field de- 
spatches Dallamount, which can mean nobody but Sir David 
de la Mount, to France, on the message of defiance from James 
IV. to Henry VIII. It was often an office imposed on the 
Lion King-at-arms, to receive foreign ambassadors ; and Lin- 
desay himself did this honour to Sir Ralph Sadler, in 1539- 
40. Indeed, the oath of the Lion, in its first article, bears 
reference to his frequent employment upon royal messages 
and embassies. 

"The office of heralds, in feudal times, being held of the ut- 
most importance, the inauguration of the Kings-at-arms, who 
presided over their colleges, was proportionally solemn. In 
fact, it was the mimicry of a royal coronation, except that the 
unction Avas made wifh wine instead of oil. In Scotland, a 
namesake and kinsman of Sir David Lindesay, inaugurated in 
1592, 'was crowned by King James with the ancient crown of 
Scotland, which was used before the Scottish Kings assumed 
a close crown ; ' and, on occasion of the same solemnity, 
dined at the King's table, wearing the crown. It is probable 
that the coronation of his predecessor was not less solemn. So 
sacred was the herald's office, that, in 1515, Lord Drummond 
was by Parliament declared guilty of treason, and his lands 
forfeited, because he had struck with his fist the Lion King-at- 
arms, when he reproved him for his follies. Nor was he re- 
stored, but at the Lion's earnest solicitation. "—ScOTT. 

159. See note on IV., 154. 

187. Eno7D. See note on I., 303. 

192. Tyne, the Scottish Tyne, a river flowing into the Firth 
of Forth south of Edinburgh. The company turned toward 
the left, and travelled along the Tyne westward, or against the 
stream. 

194. Criehtoun Castle. '*A large ruinous castle on the 
banks of the Tyne, about seven miles from Edinburgh. As 
indicated in the text, it was built at different times and with 
a very differing regard to splendour and accommodation. The 
oldest part of the building is a narrow keep, or tower, such as 
formed the mansion of a lesser Scottish baron ; but so many 
additions have been made to it that there is now a large court- 



MO MARMION [Canto IV. 

yard, surrounded by buildings of different ages. The eastern 
front of the court is raised above a portico, and decorated with 
entablatures bearing anchors. All the stones of this front are 
cut into diamond facets, the angular projections of wliich liave 
an uncouinionly rich appearance. The inside of this part of 
the building appears to have contained a gallery of great 
length and unconnnon elegance. Access was given to it by a 
magnificent staircase, now quite destroyed. The soffits are or- 
namented with twining cordage and rosettes ; and the whole 
seems to have been far more splendid than was usual in Scot- 
tish castles. The castle belonged originally to the Chancellor 
Sir William Crichton, and probably owed to him its ttrst en- 
largement, as well as its being taken by the Earl of Douglas, 
who imputed to Crichton' s counsels the death of his predeces- 
sor Earl William, beheaded in Edinburgh Castle, with his 
brother, in 1440. It is said to have been totally demolished 
on that occasion ; but the present state of the ruins shows the 
contrary. In 1488 it was garrisoned by Lord Crichton, then its 
proprietor, against King James III., wliose displeasure he had 
incurred by seducing his sister Margaret, in revenge, it is said, 
for the monarch having dishonoured his bed. From the Crich- 
ton family the castle passed to that of the Hepburns, Earl 
Both well ; and when the forfeitures of Stewart, the last Earl 
Both well, were divided, the barony and castle of Crichton fell 
to the share of the Earl of Buccleuch. They were afterwards 
the property of the Pringles of Clifton, and are now that of 
Sir John Callander, Baronet. It were to be wished the pro- 
prietor would take a little pains to preserve those splendid re- 
mains of antiquity, which are at present used as a fold for sheep, 
and wintering cattle ; although, perhaps, there are very few 
ruins in Scotland which display so well the style and beauty 
of ancient castle-architecture. The castle of Crichton has a 
dungeon vault, called the Massy More. The epithet, which 
is not uncommonly applied to the prisons of other old castles 
in Scotland, is of Saracenic origin. It occurs twice in the 
Epistolos Itinerariae of Tollius : ' Career suhterraneus, sive, lit 
Mauri appellant, Mazmorra ' (p. 147) ; and again, * Coguntur 
omnes Captivi sub noctem in ergastula siibterranea, qiice Turcce 
Algezerani vocant Mazmorras ' (p. 243). The same word ap- 
plies to the dungeons of the ancient Moorish castles in Spain, 
and serves to show from what nation the Gothic style of castle- 
building was originally derived." — Scott. 

208. Douglas hands. See preceding note. 

211. Tottered. This word may be used in the sense of totter- 
ing, wavering, threatening to fall ; or, as occasionally in 
Shakspere, for tattered. Cf. "the castle's tottered battle- 
ments," in Richard 11. , iii., ii. 



Canto IV.] NOTES 241 

215. IScutcheoiis of honour, arms bestowed for some special 
deed of valor. Scutcheons of pretence, arms which a man 
bore by virtue of his wife's rights if she were an heiress. They 
were carried on a small shield in the centre of his own coat 
of arms. 

231. Whilom, formerly. 

232. Massy More. See note on IV., 194. 

248. Earl Adam Hepburn. ' ' He was the second Earl of 
Bothwell, and fell in the field of Floddeu, where, according to 
an ancient English poet, he distinguished himself by a furious 
attempt to retrieve the day : — 

" ' Then on the Scottish part, right proud, 

The Earl of Bothwell then outbrast. 
And stepping forth, with stomach good. 

Into the enemies' throng he thrast ; 
And Bothwell! Bothwell' cried bold, 

To cause his souldiers to ensue, 
But there he caught a wellcome cold. 

The Englishmen straight down him threw. 
Thus Haburn through his hardy heart 

His fatal fine in co'nflict found." etc. 
Flodden Field, a Poem ; edited by H. Weber. Edin.. 1S08."— Scott. 

252. Dean, valley. 

254. BothiceU. " Adam was grandfather to James, Earl of 
Bothw^ell, too well known in the history of Queen Mary." — 
Scott. 

260. Borough-moor. See note on IV. , 521. 

282. Scott quotes the story as told in Pitscottie's Chronicle, 
which is the same in its main details as the version given in 
the poem. He adds: "The whole story is so well attested, 
that we have only the choice between a miracle or an impost- 
ure. Mr. Pinkerton plausibly argues, from the caution 
against incontinence, that the Queen was privy to the scheme 
of those who had recourse to this expedient, to deter King 
James from his impolitic war. ' ' 

287. LinUthgoir. ** The situation of Linlithgow Palace is 
eminently beautiful. It stands on a promontory of some ele- 
vation, which advances almost into the midst of the lake. 
The form is that of a square court, composed of buildings of 
four stories high, with towers at the angles. The fronts within 
the square, and the windows, are highly ornamented, and the 
size of the rooms, as well as the width and character of the 
staircases, are upon a magniiicent scale. One banquet-room 
is ninety-four feet long, thirtj^ feet wide, and thirty-three feet 
high, with a gallery for music. The king's wardrobe, or 
dressing-room, looking to the west, projects over the walls, so 
as to have a delicious prospect on three sides, and is one of 



242 MARMION [Canto IV. 

the most enviable boudoirs we have ever seen." — Scott's 
Promncial A ntiquities. 

291. Bells. " I am glad of an opportunity to describe the 
cry of the deer by another word than hraying, although the 
latter has been sanctified by the use of the Scottish metrical 
translation of the Psalms. Bell seems to be an abbreviation 
of bellow. This sylvan sound conveyed great delight to our 
ancestors, chiefly, I suppose, from association. A gentle 
knight in the reign of Henry VIII., Sir Thomas Wortley, built 
Wantley Lodge, in Wancliffe Forest, for the pleasure (as an 
ancient inscription testifies) of listening to the hart's hell.'''' — 
Scott. 

298. June saw Ms father's overtJiroio. ' * The rebellion against 
James III. was signalized by the cruel circumstance of his 
son's presence in the hostile army. When the king saw his 
own banner displayed against him, and his son in the faction 
of his enemies, he lost the little courage he had ever possessed, 
fled out of the field, fell from his horse, as it started at a 
woman and water-pitcher, and was slain, it is not well under- 
stood by whom. James IV. , after the battle, passed to Stir- 
ling, and hearing the monks of the chapel-royal deploring the 
death of his father, their founder, he was seized with deep 
remorse, which manifested itself in severe penances. The bat- 
tle of Sauchie-burn, in which James III. fell, was fought 18th 
June, 1488. "—Scott. 

302. Offices, religious services. 

312. Katharine's aisle. King James built the aisle of St. 
Michael's Church, and dedicated it to Saint Katharine of 
Siena. In it he placed a throne for himself and twelve stalls 
for the Knight-Companions of the Thistle. 

316. See preceding note. The Order of the Thistle was one 
of the chief distinctions bestowed on Scottish noblemen. 

346. My mother, the Virgin Mary. See John xix. 26. 

357. Cast. See note on IV., 47. 

367. Suspended pause, pause of suspension. 

420. Couch. See note on I., 222. 

461. Brian Buhner. Scott gives this story in a note. Bul- 
mer was wounded in an encounter with a Scotch knight, who 
promised to cure him if he would promise never to think of 
God, of the Virgin, or of the Saints. The wounded man 
promised and was healed, but on his exclaiming ' ' Jesus, ' ' the 
spectre vanished. 

462. Trained, drew, enticed. 

467. Rothiemurcus glade, a forest in Inverness-shire. 



Canto IV.] NOTES 243 

469. Tomantoul, a village in Banffshire. Auchnaslaid, a 
village in Inverness-shire. 

470. Dromouchty, a pass in the Highlands. Glenmore, a 
forest in the North Highlands. 

487. Boivne, prepare. See note on I. , 504. 

490. Dun-Eclin, the hill or hill-fort of Edwin. Edwin of 
Northunibria built the original fort at Edinburgh, and the 
old Celtic name is still used poetically for the city. 

497. Hills of Braid, a range of hills south of Edinburgh. 

502. Whin, furze. 

508. Saint Giles, a church in Edinburgh, founded in the 
ninth century, and rebuilt five hundred years later. It is 
noted as being the scene of John Knox's sermons, and also as 
the place where the oath of the Solemn League and Covenant 
was taken. It was there, also, that Jenny Geddis hurled her 
stool at the Dean who was trying to introduce the English 
service by order of Charles I. 

519. Bent. See note on Introduction to Canto II., 133. 

521. Borough-moor. '*The Borough, or Common Moor of 
Edinburgh, was of very great extent, reaching from the south- 
ern walls of the city to the bottom of Braid Hills. It was 
anciently a forest ; and, in that state, w^as so great a nuisance, 
that the inhabitants of Edinburgh had permission granted to 
them of building wooden galleries, projecting over the street, 
in order to encourage them to consume the timber ; which 
they seem to have done very effectually. When James IV. 
mustered the array of the kingdom there, in 1513, the Borough- 
moor was, according to Hawthornden, ' a field spacious, and 
delightful by the shade of many stately and aged oaks,' Up- 
on that, and similar occasions, the royal standard is tradi- 
tionally said to have been displayed from the Hare Stane, 
a high stone, now built into the wall, on the left hand of the 
highway leading towards Braid, not far from the head of 
Burntsfield Links. The Hare Stane probably derives its name 
from the British word Har, signifying an army." — Scott. 

535. Hehudes, Hebrides, the islands west of Scotland. 

536. Lodon, Lothian. See note on II., 290, 

537. Redswire, one of the Cheviot hills. 

538. Rosse^s. The county of Ross is north of Inverness-shire. 

557. Borthwick's Sisters Seven. "Seven culverins, so called, 
cast by one Borthwdck. ' ' — Scott. 

558. Culverins, etc. James was particularly strong in ar- 
tillery, and had he remained on the defensive in his original 



244 MARMION [Canto IV. 

position at Flodden he might have used his strength to ad- 
vantage. 

566. Scroll, a banner bearing a motto. Pensil, a small pen- 
non. Bandrol, a small banner. "Each of these feudal en- 
signs intimated the different rank of those entitled to display 
them." — 8COTT. 

578. Lion ramp'din gold. " The well-known arms of Scot- 
land. If you will believe Boethius and Buchanan, the double 
tressure round the shield [mentioned in line 141], counter 
fleiir-de-lysed, or lingued and armed azure, was first assumed 
by Achaius, King of Scotland, contemporary of Charlemagne, 
and founder of the celebrated League with France ; but later 
antiquaries make poor Eochy, or Achy, little better than a 
sort of King of Brentford, whom old Grig (who has also 
swelled into Gregorius Magnus) associated with himself in the 
important duty of governing some part of the northeastern 
coast of Scotland." — ScOTT. 

Ramp'd, rampant. 

616. Beep and massy, etc. The adjectives refer to the houses 
of the town as seen from a distance. 

619. OcMl mountains, a range of mountains north of Edin- 
burgh, visible across the Firth of Forth. 

623. Preston-Bay and Berwick- Law (hill) are east of Edin- 
burgh. 

624. Between them. The Firth lies between Preston-Bay 
and Berwick-Law, and the shores of Fife. 

632. Bemi-volte, a half turn which the horse made on his 
hind legs, his forefeet being in air. 

640. Sackhut, an instrument resembling both the trumpet 
and the trombone. Psaltery, a stringed instrument. 

646. Prime, the second division of the canonical day, begin- 
ning at six in the morning. 

650. Saint Katharine's of Sienne. See note on 312. 

651. Saint Rocque, a French saint to whom a chapel was 
built near Stirling. 

655. Falkland-woods, the royal hunting-ground of the Scot- 
tish kings, situated north of the Firth of Forth in Fifeshire. 

672. Leaguer'' d, beleaguered, encamped about. 

679. Stowre, storm ; and hence battle. Cf. ' ' But to avoyde 
th' intollerable stowre. " — The Faerie Queene, iii., ix., 13. 



Canto V.] NOTES 245 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO V. 

George Ellis was an antiquarian and man of letters of some 
note. He edited Specimens of Ancient English Romances^ and 
co-operated with Frere and Canning in The Anti-Jacobin, a 
famous Tory satire. He died on April 10, 1815, 

23. Darkling. See note on III., 551. 

28. City home. Scott was a Clerk of Session, and so was 
obliged to spend part of the year in Edinburgh. 

35. Newark. See note on Introduction to Canto II. , 32. 

36. Ettrick. See note on Introduction to Canto II. , 2. 

37. Caledonia's Queen. " The Old Town of Edinburgh was 
secured on the north side by a lake, now drained, and on the 
south by a wall, which there w^as some attempt to make de- 
fensible even so late as 1745. The gates, and the greater part 
of the wall, have been pulled down, in the course of the late 
extensive and beautiful enlargement of the city. My ingen- 
ious and valued friend, Mr. Thomas Campbell, proposed to 
celebrate Edinburgh under the epithet here borrowed. But 
the ' Queen of the North ' has not been so fortunate as to re- 
ceive from so eminent a pen the proposed distinction." — 
Scott. 

51. Wicket, a small door let into the large studded gate for 
the accommodation of those who arrived after nightfall. 

58. For, instead of. XJmher'd lower, shadowed frown. 
** Umbered " is from the Latin umbra, a shadow. "Lower " 
is the regular word for frown as both noun and verb. Cf. 
'* Why at our justice seemest thou then to lower." — Richard 
II., i., iii. 

62. The Championess, Britomarte, the heroine of the third 
book of The Faerie Queene. She represents chastity. 

64. Charmed spear, a lance that overthrew every knight 
whom it touched. 

67. MalbecGO, a miser, who from jealousy of his wife Helle- 
nore refused to admit Britomarte and her companions when 
they desired to take refuge from the storm in his castle. After 
he had yielded to threats and had admitted the knights, Brito- 
marte took off her armor and revealed her beauty. See The 
Faerie Queene, Book iii., Canto ix. 

72. Aventayle, the movable front of the helmet. 

78. ** 'For every one her liked and every one her loved.' 
Spenser. ' ' — Scott. 



246 MARMION [Canto V. 

81. Squire of Dames, the assumed title of one of Brito- 
marte's companions, whose mistress was Columbella. 

84. Satyrane and Paridell were two knights who, like 
Britomarte, were compelled to take refuge in Malbecco's castle. 

90. Battled. See note on I. , 4. 

100. Voluntary line, the volunteers, in organizing whom 
Scott took an active part. 

106. Knosp, an architectural ornament, like a bud in form. 

118. Henry meek. *' Henry VI., with his Queen, his heir, 
and the chiefs of his family, fled to Scotland, after the fatal 
battle of Towton. ' ' — Scott. 

120, Great Bourhon' s relics. The Count d'Artois, brother of 
Louis XVI., exiled from France by the Revolution, lived in 
Holyrood Palace from 1796 to 1799. This is the occasion 
referred to in the text. The Count became Charles X. of France, 
and, after being deposed by the Revolution of 1830, he returned 
again to Holyrood. 

139. Whilere, formerly. 

140. Royal Henry, Henry I. "Mr. Ellis, in his valuable In- 
troduction to the Specimens of Romance, has proved, by the 
concurring testimony of La Ravaillere, Tressan, but especially 
the Abbe de la Rue, that the courts of our Anglo-Norman 
Kings, rather than those of the French monarchs, produced the 
birth of Romance literature. Marie, soon after mentioned, 
compiled from Armorican originals, and translated into Nor- 
man-French, or Romance language, the twelve curious Lays 
of which Mr. Ellis has given us o^ precis in the Appendix to 
his Introduction. The story of Blondel, the famous and faith- 
ful minstrel of Richard L, needs no commentary." — Scott. 

146. Marie. Marie de France, referred to in the note pre- 
ceding, lived for some time in England during the reign of 
Henry III. 

147. 01 horn Time's ravage to repair. Ellis had restored 
poems almost lost sight of in the lapse of time. 

180. Windsor's oaks, etc. "At Sunning-hill, Mr. Ellis's 
seat, near Windsor, part of the first two cantos of Marmion 
were written. ' ' — Lockhart. 



CANTO V. 

18. ClotU-yard arrows. " This is no poetical exaggeration. 
In some of the counties of England, distinguished for archery, 
shafts of this extraordinary length were actually used. Thus, 



Caxto v.] notes 247 

at the battle of Blackheath, between the troops of Henry VII. 
and the Cornish insurgents, in 1496, the bridge of Dartford 
was defended by a picked band of archers from the rebel army, 
' whose arrows,' says HoUinshed, ' were in length a full cloth- 
yard.' The Scottish, according to Ascham, had a proverb, 
that every English archer carried under his belt twenty-four 
Scots, in allusion to his bundle of unerring shafts." — Scott. 

24. Mail and plate. x\rmor was made either of fine chains 
twisted closely together, or of plates riveted at the edges. 

32. The croupe to gain, to jump upon the back of a horse 
beliind the rider in the saddle. 

33. Curcett, a movement of the horse by which he rears, and 
then, throwing out his hind legs, lets his weight descend for- 
ward, in time with the blow of his rider's sword. 

36. Ha nil/ burghers. "The Scottish burgesses were, like 
yeomen, appointed to be armed with bows and sheaves, sword, 
buckler, knife, spear, or a good axe instead of a bow, if worth 
£100 : their armour to be of white or bright harness. They 
wore ivhite hats, i. e., bright steel caps, without crest or vizor. 
By an act of James IV., their weapou-schawings m-e appointed 
to be held four times a-year, under the aldermen or bailiffs." 
— Scott. 

41. Brigantines, coats, quilted, and protected by iron rings 
or plates. Gorgets, armor for the collar. 
45. Mace, a heavy club set with spikes. 

47. On foot, etc. *' Bows and quivers were in vain recom- 
mended to the peasantry of Scotland, by repeated statutes ; 
spears and axes seem universally to have been used instead of 
them. The defensive armour was the plate-jack, hauberk, or 
brigantine ; and their missile weapons crossbows and culver- 
ins. All wore swords of excellent temper, according to Patten; 
and a voluminous handkerchief round their neck, ' not for 
cold, but for cutting.' The mace also was much used in the 
Scottish army. The old poem on the battle of Flodden men- 
tions a band — 

" • Who manfully did meet their foes, 
With leaden mauls, and lances long.' 

"When the feudal array of the kingdom was called forth, 
each man was obliged to appear with forty days' provision. 
AVhen this was expended, which took place before the battle of 
Flodden, the army melted away of course. Almost all the 
Scottish forces, except a few knights, men-at-arms, and the 
Border-prickers, who formed excellent light cavalry, acted 
upon foot." — Scott. 



248 MAUMION [Canto V. 

48. Jack, jacket. 

54. Hagbiit, another name for arquebus. See note on In- 
troduction to Canto II., 48. 

56. Cheer, here in its original meaning of countenance or 
expression. See note on Introduction to IV., 128. 

59. Musing, wondering. 

73. Slogan, battle-cry. 

75. Pricker, horseman. See note on Introduction to Canto 
I., 294. 

96. EusedaJe glen, or LiddelVs tide. The Euse and the 
Liddell tlovv into the Esk. The Liddell is part of the bound- 
ary between England and Scotland. 

100. Maudlin, a contraction of Magdalen. Pied, variegated. 

101. Kirtle, skirt. 

102. Celtic race, the Highlanders. 

107. Trews. The horsemen among the Highlanders wore 
"trews " or trousers of tartan plaid. 
147. To tvheel, etc., to shape the bar into a horseshoe. 
157. Following, " Feudal retainers. "—Scott. 

165. Wines. " In all transactions of great or petty impor- 
tance, and among whomsoever taking place, it would seem 
that a present of wine was a uniform and indispensable preli- 
minary. It was not to Sir John Falstaff alone that such an 
introductory preface was necessary, however well judged and 
acceptable on the part of Mr. Brook ; for Sir Ralph Sadler, 
Avhile on an embassy to Scotland in 1539-40, mentions, with 
complacency, ' the same night came Rothesay (tlie herald so 
called) to me again, and brought me wine from the King, both 
white and red. ' ' ' —Scott. 

168. Weeds. See note on Introduction to Canto I., 256. 

172. Wassel. See note on I., 231. 

213. Piled, having a pile or nap. 

215. Sheen, bright. 

'^n. Thistle. See note on IV., 316. 

220. Toledo right, genuine Toledo, from the Spanish city, 
which was famous for the quality of its steel. 

221. Baldric, belt. 

244. Cheer. See note on V., 56. 

245. Lower. See note on Introduction to Canto V,, 58. 

249. I7i memory, etc. "Few readers need to be reminded of 
this belt, to the weight of which James added certain ounces 
every year that he lived. Pitscottie founds his belief that 
James was not slain in the battle of Flodden, because the Eng- 



Canto V.] NOTES 249 

lish never had this token of the iron-belt to show to any 
Scotsman. The person and character of James are delineated 
according to our best historians. His romantic disposition, 
which led him highly to relish gaiety, approaching to license, 
was, at the same time, tinged with enthusiastic devotion. 
These propensities sometimes formed a strange contrast. He 
was wont, during his fits of devotion, to assume the dress, 
and conform to the rules, of the order of Franciscans ; and 
when \\^ had thus done penance for some time in Stirling, to 
plunge again into the tide of pleasure. Probably, too, with 
no unusual inconsistency, he sometimes laughed at the super- 
stitious observances to which he at other times subjected him- 
self. "—Scott. 

260. Cer James's heart, etc. " It has been already noticed 
(see note on L, 192) that King James's acquaintance with 
Lady Heron of Ford did not commence until he marched into 
England. Our historians impute to the King's infatuated 
passion the delays which led to the fatal defeat of Flodden. 
The author of Tlie Genealogy of the Heron Family endeavours, 
with laudable anxiety, to clear the Lady Ford from this scan- 
dal : that she came and went, however, between the armies of 
James and Surrey, is certain. See Pinkerton's History, and 
the authorities he refers to. Vol. ii., p. 99. Heron of Ford 
had been, in 1511, in some sort accessory to the slaughter of 
Sir Robert Kerr, of Cessford, Warden of the Middle Marches. 
It was committed by his brother the bastard, Lilburn, and 
Starked, three Borderers. Lilburn and Heron of Ford were 
delivered up by Henry to James, and were imprisoned in the 
fortress of Fastcastle, where the former died. Part of the pre- 
tence of Lady Ford's negotiations with James was the liberty 
of her husband." — Scott. 

209. For the fair Queen of France, etc. " ' Also the Queen 
of France wrote a love-letter to the King of Scotland, calling 
him her love, showing him that she had suffered much rebuke 
in France for the defending of his honour. She believed 
surely that he would recompense her again with some of his 
kingly support in her necessity ; that is to say, that he would 
raise her an army, and come three foot of ground on English 
ground, for her sake. To that effect she sent him a ring off 
her finger, with fourteen thousand French crowns to pay his 
expenses.' — Pitscottie, p. 110. A turquoise ring; probably 
this fatal gift is, with James's sword and dagger, preserved in 
the College of Heralds, London." — Scott. 

278. Vest, vesture, clothing. 

287. Lithgou), Linlithgow. See note on IV. , 287. 

;j02. Wimple, scarf or veil. 

313. Lochincar. "The ballad of Lochinvar is in a verv 



250 MARMION [Canto V. 

slight degree founded on a ballad called ' Katharine Jan- 
farie, ' which may be found in TJie Minstrelsy of the Scot- 
tish Border.'"' — Scott. The metre of the ballad is anapaes- 
tic, with an iambus usually at the beginning of the line. 
The same metre is used to produce a galloping swiftness in 
Browning's How They Brought the Good News from Ghent 
to Aix. 

320. Eske river, a river in southwestern Scotland, flowing 
into Sol way Firth. 

332. Solway, Solway Firth, noted for its rapid tides. 

344. Galliard, a lively dance. 

351. Croupe. See note on V., 32. 

353. Scaur, cliff. 

355. Grcemes, Grahams. A great Scottish family, whose 
possessions lay near the Border. 

357. Cannobie Lee, a plain in Scotland just across the Bor- 
der. 

382. Our Warden. See note on V. , 260. 

398. Archibald Bell-the- Cat. " Archibald Douglas, Earl of 
Angus, a man remarkable for strength of body and mind, ac- 
quired the popular name of Bell-the-Cat, upon the following 
remarkable occasion : — James the Third, of whom Pitscottie 
complains that he delighted more in music, and ' policies of 
building,' than in hunting, hawking, and other noble exer- 
cises, was so ill advised as to make favourites of his architects 
and musicians, whom the same historian irreverently terms 
masons and fiddlers. His nobility, who did not sympathise in 
the King's respect for the fine arts, were extremely incensed at 
the honours conferred on those persons, particularly on Coch- 
rane, a mason, who had been created Earl of Mar ; and, seiz- 
ing the opportunity, when, in 1482, the King had convoked 
the whole array of the country to march against the English, 
they held a midnight council in the church of Lauder for the 
purpose of forcibly removing these minions from the King's 
person. When all had agreed on the propriety of this meas- 
ure. Lord Gray told the assembly the apologue of the mice, 
who had formed a resolution that it would be highly advan- 
tageous to their community to tie a bell round the cat's neck, 
that they might hear her approach at a distance ; but which 
public measure unfortunately miscarried, from no mouse be- 
ing willing to undertake the task of fastening the bell. ' I 
understand the moral,' said Angus, 'and, that what we pro- 
pose may not lack execution, I will bell the cat.' " — Scott. 

Scott continues the story in Pitscottie's words. Just at this 
time the Earl of Mar himself, with three hundred men, rode 



Canto v.] NOTES 251 

up to the door of the church. The Earl of Angus received 
hhn there and tore the gold chain from his neck, saying a hal- 
ter would become him better. Then the lords hanged Coch- 
rane from the bridge of Lauder. 

400. Hermitage in Liddisdale, Hermitage Castle, on Her- 
mitage river, in the southwestern part of Scotland. 

402. BothwelVs turrets, Bothwell Castle, near Glasgow. 
James had forced Douglas to exchange Hermitage Castle for 
Bothwell. See note on VI., 341. 

414. Chafed his royal lord. ' ' Angus was an old man when 
the war against England Avas resolved upon. He earnestly 
spoke against that measure from its connnencement ; and, on 
the eve of the battle of Flodden, remonstrated so freely upon 
the impolicy of fighting, that the King said to him, Avith scorn 
and indignation, 'if he was afraid, he might go home.' The 
Earl burst into tears at this insupportable insult, and retired 
accordingly, leaving his sons, George, Master of Angus, and 
Sir William of Glenbervie, to command his followers. They 
were both slain in the battle, with two hundred gentlemen of 
the name of Douglas. The aged Earl, broken-hearted at the 
calamities of his house and his country, retired into a religious 
house, where he died about a year after the field of Flodden." 
— Scott. 

418. Lower. See note on Introduction to Canto V., 58. 

429. Tantallon. ' * The ruins of Tantallon Castle occupy a 
high rock projecting into the German Ocean, about two miles 
east of North Berwick. The building is not seen till a close 
approach, as there is rising ground betwixt it and the land. 
The circuit is of large extent, fenced upon three sides by the 
precipice which overhangs the sea, and on the fourth by a 
double ditch and very strong outworks. Tantallon was a 
principal castle of the Douglas family, and when the Earl of 
Angus was banished, in 1527, it continued to hold out against 
James V. The King went in person against it, and for its 
reduction borrowed from the Castle of Dunbar, then belong- 
ing to the Duke of Albany, two great cannons, whose names, 
as Pitscottie informs us with laudable minuteness, w^ere 
' Thrawn-mouth'd Meg and her Marrow ; ' also, ' two great 
botcards, and two moyan, two double falcons, and four quarter 
falcons ; ' for the safe guiding and re-delivery of which, three 
lords were laid in pawn at Dunbar. Yet, notwithstanding all 
this apparatus, James was forced to raise the siege, and only 
afterwards obtained possession of Tantallon by treaty with the 
governor. Simon Panango. When the Earl of Angus returned 
from banishment, upon the death of James, he again obtained 
possession of Tantallon, and it actually afforded refuge to an 



252 MARMION [Canto V. 

English ambassador, under circumstances similar to those de- 
scribed in the text. This was no other than the celebrated Sir 
Ralph Sadler, who resided there for some time under Angus's 
protection, after the failure of his negotiation for matching 
the infant Mary with Edward VI. " — Scott. 

432. He wears their motto on Ms blade. " A very ancient 
sword, in possession of Lord Douglas, bears, among a great 
deal of flourishing, two hands pointing to a heart, which is 
placed betwixt them, and tlie date 1329, being the year in 
which Bruce charged the Good Lord Douglas to carry his 
heart to the Holy Land. The following lines (the first couplet 
of which is quoted by Godscroft as a popular saying in his 
time) are inscribed around the emblem : — 

'"So mony guid as of ye Dovglas beinge, 
Of ane surname was ne'er in Scotland seine. 

I will ye charge, efter yat I depart, 
To holy grawe, and thair bury my hart ; 
Let it remane ever bothe ttme and howr, 
To ye last day I sie my Saviour. 

I do protest in tyme of al my ringe, 
Ye lyk subject had never ony keing.' 

"This curious and valuable relic was nearly lost during the 
Civil War of 1745-6, being carried away from Douglas Castle 
by some of those in arms for Prince Charles. But great in- 
terest having been made by the Duke of Douglas among the 
chief partisans of the Stuart, it was at length restored. It 
resembles a Highland claymore, of the usual size, is of an ex- 
cellent temper, and admirably poised." — Scott. 

444. Codiran. See note on V., 398. 
461. More tender and more true. 

" ' O Dowglas, Dowglas, 

Tendir and trew.'— The Houlate.^'— Scott. 

470. Part. See note on I., 20. 

484. Tamworth, a town near the central part of England. 

489. Nottingham, a county just north of the centre of Eng- 
land. 

497. Trent, the last important stream that James would 
have to cross before reaching Tam worth. 

501. ''A halV *' The ancient cry to make room for a dance 
or pageant. ' ' — Scott. 

505. ' * Blue Bonnets o'er the Border. ' ' An old Scottish 
song. 

538. Scroll, any piece of writing. 

552. Was by, was past. 



Canto V.] NOTES 253 

569. Bowne. See notes on IV., 487, and I., 504. 

585. Despiteously, the adverb, from despite ; maliciously. 

587. Ilartin Sioart " A German general, who commanded 
the auxiliaries sent by the Duchess of Burgundy with Lambert 
Simnel. He was defeated and killed at tStokefield. The name 
of this German general is preserved by that of the field of bat- 
tle, which is called, after him, Swart-moor. — There were songs 
about him long current in England." — Scott. 

588. Simnel, the pretender to the throne of Henry VII. He 
claimed to be the Earl of Warwick, nephew of Edward IV., 
and tried to rally the Yorkist party to his support. He was 
captured and made a scullion in Henry's palace. 

590. Stokefleld, the battle in which Simnel' s forces were de- 
feated in 1489. 

594. Guelder s, a province in central Holland. 

612. Recreant, originally, one who retracted his belief ; then 
any cowardly and faithless person. It was applied particu- 
larly to a knight who had broken his vows. 

627. Edelfled. See note on II,, 244. 

633. Tame. The Tame flows into the Trent just north of 
Tam worth. 

601. Clerh. See note on III., 324. 

662. Quaint, fine, neat. 

665. Scheme, no longer used as a transitive verb, as here. 

691. Wolsey. At this time Thomas Wolsey had not become 
the virtual ruler of England, but he was already the chief 
minister of Henry VIII. 

704. St. Withold, St. Vitalis, the protector from nightmare. 

709. Bun-Edin' s Cross. "The Cross of Edinburgh was an 
ancient and curious structure. The lower part was an octag- 
onal tower, sixteen feet in diameter, and about fifteen feet 
high. At each angle there was a pillar, and between them an 
arch, of the Grecian shape. Above these was a projecting bat- 
tlement, with a turret at each corner and medallions, of rude 
but curious workmanship, between them. Above this rose the 
proper Cross, a column of one stone, upwards of twenty feet 
high, surmounted with a unicorn. This pillar is preserved in 
the grounds of the property of Drum, near Edinburgh. The 
Magistrates of Edinburgh, in 1756, with consent of the Lords 
of Session {proh pudor !), destroyed this curious monument, 
under a wanton pretext that it encumbered the street ; while, 
on the one hand, they left an ugly mass called the Lucken- 
booths, and, on the other, an awkward, long, and low guard- 
house, which were fifty times more encumljrance than the 
venerable and inoffensive Cross. 



254 MARMION [Canto V. 

" From tlie tower of the Cross, so long as it remained, the 
heralds [)ul)lished the acts of Parliament ; and its site marked 
by radii, diverging from a stone centre, in the High Street, is 
still the place where proclamations are made." — Scott. 

The Cross was restored by Mr. Gladstone in 1885. 

717. Malison, curse. 

731. Shroud, covering. The word may mean here the light 
with which the moon covers or enshrouds the earth, or the 
clouds which form a shroud for the moon itself. 

735. 'This awful .mmmoiis came. "This supernatural cita- 
tion is mentioned by all our Scottish historians. It was, prob- 
ably, like the apparition at Linlithgow, an attempt, by those 
averse to the war, to impose upon the superstitious temper of 
James IV. " — Scott. 

756. Forbes, a dissyllable, as in Introduction to Canto IV., 
132. 

757. Style, title. 

836. North Berwick, east of Edinburgh on the coast. Law, 
a hill just south of North Berwick. 

838. Venerable pile. " The convent alluded to is a founda- 
tion of Cistertian nuns near North Berwick, of which there 
are some remains. It was founded by Duncan, Earl of Fife, 
in 1216."— Scott. 

840. Lofty Bass, the Lamhie Isle, islands off the coast. 

861. Wend, the present tense of " went," for which we usu- 
ally use ' ' go. ' ' 

899. Candle, hell, and hook, three symbols used in the Roman 
Catholic ceremony of excommunication. The candles were 
extinguished, the bell tolled, and the book of offices closed 
when the sinner was finally cast out from the church. 

900. Cistertian. The Cistercian Order was an offshoot of the 
Benedictine, founded at Citeaux, or Cistercium, in France, in 
1098, The most famous representative of the order was Ber- 
nard of Clairvaux, from whom the French branch assumed the 
name Bernard ine. See VI., 546. 

914. Drove the monks forth of Coventry. " This relates to 
the catastrophe of a real Robert de Marmion, in the reign of 
King Stephen, whom William of Newbury describes with some 
attributes of my fictitious hero : ' Homo bellicosus. ferocia, et 
astucia, fere nuUo suo tempore impar. ' This Baron, having 
expelled the Monks from the church of Coventry, was not long 
of experiencing the divine judgment, as the same monks, no 
doubt, termed his disaster. Having waged a feudal war with 
the Earl of Chester, Marmion 's horse fell, as he charged in the 



Canto VI.] NOTES 255 

van of his troop, against a body of the Earl's followers : the 
rider's thigh being broken by the fall, his head was cut off by 
a common foot-soldier, ere he could receive any succour. The 
whole story is told by William of Newbury." — Scott. 

926. Judith, the Israelite woman who slew Holofernes, the 
Assyrian. See the book of Judith in the Apocrypha. 

928. Jael, Beborali. See Judges iv. 

931. Saint Anton' fire thee. Saint Anthony's fire was a name 
given to erysipelas. It had previously been applied to an 
epidemic of the twelfth century, from which many persons 
were saved by virtue of prayers to the saint. 

935. Fond, foolish. 

947. Inviolable dome. Churches and religious houses had 
the right to protect from punishment criminals who took ref- 
uge in them. 

1001. Etall, and Wark, a7id Ford, three border castles in 
Northumberland. 

1017. Millfleld Plain, the plain east of Flodden Hill. 

1021. Wooler, a town southeast of Flodden, whence Surrey 
could command the routes by which James could advance. 

1032. 'Bated, diminished. 



INTRODUCTION TO CANTO VI. 

Richard Heber was the half-brother of Reginald Heber, the 
hymn writer and Bishop of Calcutta. His interest in anti- 
quarian research brought him into close friendship with Scott, 
whom he met at Edinburgh. 

''Mertoun House, the seat of Hugh Scott, Esq., of Harden, 
is beautifully situated on the Tweed, about two miles below 
Dryburgh Abbey. "—LOCKH ART. Scott was in the habit of 
spending Christmas here with the head of his clan. 

7. lol. Yule. * ' The lol of the heathen Danes (a word still 
applied to Christmas in Scotland) was solemnized with great 
festivity. The humour of the Danes at table displayed itself 
in pelting each other with bones, and Torf?eus tells a long and 
curious story, in the History of Hrolfe Kraka, of one Hottus, 
an inmate of the Court of Denmark, who was so generally as- 
sailed with these missiles, that he constructed, out of the bones 
with which he was overwhelmed, a very respectable intrench- 
ment, against those who continued the raillery. The dances 
of the northern warriors round the great fires of pine-trees, are 
commemorated by Olaus Magnus, who says, they danced with 



^56 MARMION [ixTKODUCTKKN TO 

such fury, holding" each other by the hands, that, if tlie grasp 
of any failed, he wns pitclied into the tire witli the velocity of 
a sling. The sufferer, on such occasions, was instantly 
plucked out, and obliged to quaff off a certain measure of ale, 
as a penalty for 'spoiling the king's fire.' "—Scott. 

12. Half -dress' d, half-prepared or cooked. 

17. Scalds, the Scandinavian minstrels. 

23. Odin's hall, Valhalla, the home of the gods of the Norse 
mythology, of whom Odin was tlie ciiief . The allusion here is 
to the belief that warriors who fell in battle were carried to 
Valhalla to share in the eternal revels of the gods. 

31. The mass was sung. "In Roman Catholic countries, 
mass is never said at niglit except on Christmas eve." — Scott. 

33. Staled, wearing the stole or scarf. Chalice, the cup con- 
taining the wine symbolizing the blood of Clirist. 

34. Sheen, bright, shining, as in V., 215. 

44. Underogating, without derogating or detracting from 
his dignity. 

45. ' ' Post and pair, ' ' a game of cards, 

55. No mark. The mark wdiich parted those of unequal 
rank at table was a salt-cellar. Hence the expression ' ' to 
sit below the salt. ' ' 

56. Brawn, boar's meat. Lusty is probably applied in the 
sense of making lusty or strong. See note on the Introduction 
to Canto I., 254. 

64. Wassel. See note on I., 231. 

69. High tide, high or celebrated time. 

74. Mumming, acting ; at first acting in dumb show, from 
which fact the word mum was used. 

75. Ancient mystery. The mysteries were sacred dramas 
played to illustrate Christian doctrines. They were at first 
presented by the clergy, later by guilds or associations of 
craftsmen. Fragments of these mysteries survived as Christ- 
mas plays. 

** It seems certain that the Mummers of England, who (in 
Northumberland at least) used to go about in disguise to the 
neighbouring houses, bearing the then useless ploughshares ; 
and the Guisards of Scotland, not yet in total disuse, present, 
in some indistinct degree, a shadow of the old mysteries, 
which were the origin of the English drama. In Scotland {me 
ipso teste), Ave were wont, during my boyhood, to take the 
characters of the apostles, at least of Peter, Paul, and Judas 
Iscariot ; the first had the keys, the second carried a sword, 
and the last the bag, in which the dole of our neighbours' 



(^xNToVI.i NOTES ^5T 

plum-cake was deposited. One played as a champion, and re- 
cited some traditional rhymes ; another was : — 

. . . . " ' Alexander, King of Macedon, 
Who conquerd all the world but Scotland alone. 
When he came to Scotland hii? courage grew cold, 
To see a little nation so courageous and bold.' 

These, and many such verses, were repeated, but by rote, and 
unconnectedly. There was also, occasionally, I believe, a 
Saint Greorge. In all, there was a confused resemblance of 
the ancient mysteries, in which the characters of Scripture, 
the Nine Worthies, and other popular personages, were usually 
exhibited. " — Scott. 

78. mght See note on I., 88. 

89. Kindred title, title or claim founded on kinship. 

93. Warmer, etc. ' ' ' Blood is warmer than water, ' a prov- 
erb meant to vindicate our family predilections." — Scott. 

95. Where my great grandsire came of old. ' ' Mr. Scott of 
Harden, my kind and affectionate friend, and distant relation, 
has the original of a poetical invitation, addressed from his 
grandfather to my relative, from which a few lines in the text 
are imitated. They are dated, as the epistle in the text, from 
Mertoun-house, the seat of the Harden family. 

" ' With amber beard, and flaxen hair. 
And reverend apostolic air. 
Free of anxiety and care. 
Come hither, Christmas-day, and dine ; 
We '11 mix sobriety mth wine. 
And easy mirth with thoushts divine. 
We Christians think it holiday. 
On it no sin to feast or play ; 
Others, in spite, may fast and pray. 
No superstition in the use 
Our ancestors made of a goose ; 
Why may not we. as well as they, 
Be innocently blithe that day. 
On goose or pie, on wine or ale. 
And scorn enthusiastic zeal ?— 
Pray come, and welcome, or plague rott 
Your friend and landlord, Walter Scott. 
'"■Mr. Waller Scott., Lessuden.: 

" The venerable old ■ gentleman to whom the lines are ad- 
dressed, was the younger brother of William Scott of Raeburn. 
Being the cadet of a cadet of the Harden family, he had very 
little to lose ; \et he contrived to lose the small property he 
had, by engaging in the civil wars and intrigues of the house of 
Stuart. His veneration for the exiled family was so great, that 
he swore he would not shave his beard till they were restored : 
a mark of attachment, which, I suppose, had been connnon 
during Cromwell's usurpation : for, in Cowley's ' Cutter of 
Coleman Street,' one drunken cavalier upbraids another, that, 
when he was not able to afford to pay a barber, he affected to 
17 



258 MARMION [Intuodiiction to 

* wear a beard for thekiiiii:/ 1 sincerely hope this was not ab- 
sohitely the original reason of my ancestor's beard ; Avhich, as 
appears from a portrait in the possession of Sir Henry Hay 
Macdouj^ral, Bart., and another painted for the famous Dr. 
Pitcairn, was a beard of a most dignified and venerable ap- 
pearance. ' ' — Scott. 

120. Clips, folds. The river by its windings embraces Mer- 
toun, and at the same time delays its own onward course. 

131. Noll Bluff. Bluff is a character in Congreve's Old 
Bachelor, who says (act ii., scene i.), "Hannibal was a very 
pretty fellow in those days. ' ' 

139. Limbo, the borderland of hell. 

142. Touch my charter, interfere with my right. 

143. Leyden. John Leydeii was a man of low birth, who, 
by his own efforts, made himself master of immense learning. 
His antiquarian knowledge introduced him to Heber, who 
made him acquainted with Scott. The latter was much in- 
debted to him for help in preparing The Minstrelsy of the Scot- 
tish Border. Before the writing of 3Iarmion Leyden had re- 
ceived a medical appointment in India. He died in Java in 
1811. 

146. Wraith, apparition. The meeting of Ulysses with the 
shade of Hercules is narrated in the Odyssey, Book xi. 

148. Poly dor e. ^neas hears the voice of Polydorus on the 
shore of Thrace. Mneid, Book iii. 

150. LoGutus Bos, the ox spoke. This marvel is of frequent 
occurrence in Livy's history. 

157. Cambria, Wales. 

159. ''The Spirit's Blasted Tree.'' The allusion is to the 
feud between Owen Glendwr, or Glendower, and Howel Sele, 
two Welsh chiefs who engaged in single combat, in which 
Sele was killed. Glendwr concealed the body of his antago- 
nist in a hollow tree, where the skeleton was found later. 

161. Maida's shore, in Southern Italy, the scene of Sir John 
Stuart's victory over the French in 1806. 

163. Fairy tale. "The Baoine shV, or Men of Peace, of the 
Scottish Highlanders, rather resemble the Scandinavian Buer- 
gar, than the English Fairies. Notwithstanding their name, 
they are, if not absolutely malevolent, at least peevish, discon- 
tented, and apt to do mischief on slight provocation. The 
belief of their existence is deeply impressed on the High- 
landers, who think they are particularly offended at mortals 
who talk of them, who wear their favourite colour green, or in 
any respect interfere with their affairs. This is especially to 



Canto VI.] NOTES 259 

be avoided on Friday, wlien, wiiether as dedicated to Venus, 
with whom, in Germany, this subterraneous people are held 
nearly connected, or for a more solemn reason, they are more 
active, and possessed of greater power. Some curious par- 
ticulars concerning the popular superstitions of the High- 
landers may be found in Dr. (iraham's Picturesque Sketches 
of Perthshire. " — Scott. 

109. Franchhnont, near Spa, in Belgium. Scott was in- 
debted to James Skene for the story which follows. The last 
lord of Franchemont entrusted his ill-gotten treasure to the 
Devil, who, in the guise of a huntsman, sits constantly on the 
chest, and can be driven thence only by a repetition of the 
spell used by the depositor of the treasure. 

179. Hanger, a short sword. 

195. Amain. See note on Introduction to Canto I., line 91. 

205. Pitscottie. Robert Lindsay of Pitscottie, who lived in 
the sixteenth century, wrote the Chronicles of Scotland, from 
James II. to Mary. He is responsible for several of the epi- 
sodes which Scott narrates in Marmion. 

207. TJie messenger from Heaven. See IV., 278 li. 

209. Infernal summoning. See V., 735 ff. 

210. The Monk of Durham's tale. See note on IV., 461. 

212. Fordun, a Scottish chronicler of the fourteenth cen- 
tury. 

213. Gifford's GoUin-Cam. See note on III., 333. 
220. Gripple, miserly. 



CANTO VI. 

4. Fretted. See note on VI., 78. 

5. Like the impatient steed of umr. Cf Job xxxix. 25. 

8. Terouenne, a town of Artois, southeast of Calais. 

9. Leaguer, camp. Henry VIII. was besieging Terouenne. 

34. Bloody Heart. The arms of the Douglas family bore 
the bleeding heart in commemoration of the commission given 
by Robert Bruce to Sir James Douglas to bear his heart to 
the Holy Land. Field, the general surface of the shield. 

35. Chief the upper portion of the field. Mullets, star- 
shaped emblems. 

45. Bartizan, a small overhanging turret. 

46. Bastion, a projection of the walls. Coign, a corner. 
71. Frontlet, band for the forehead. 



260 MARMION [Canto Yl. 

78. Fretted may mean ornamented with raised work (see 
Introduction to Canto I., 140) ; or it may refer simply to the 
open work of the embroidery. The word comes from the An- 
glo-Saxon foretan, to eat away, whence its metaphorical sense 
of annoy (see line 4 above). 

85. Breviary book, a prayer-book containing a short form 
of the services of the Church. 

128. Red de Clare, Gilbert de Clare, Earl of Gloucester, who 
married a daughter of Edward I. 

131. Wliat makes, what does. The use is frequent in Shak- 
spere. See Richard III., i., iii. *' What makest thou in my 
sight?" 

133. Targe, shield. 

137. Blood-gouts, blood-spots. 

174. Beadsman, one who prays, especially one who prays 
for another in return for alms. See note on VI., 823. 

193. Shade, hide. 

218. Slough, the dead skin which the serpent sheds. 

236. Sprite, poetical for spirit. 

261. Featly, dexterously. 

269. Duh, strike, the technical term for striking on the 
shoulder with the flat of the sword, in token of conferring 
knighthood. 

271. Otterljiirne, a village in Northumberland, where, in 1388, 
was fought the battle of Chevy Chase between Hotspur and 
Douglas. Douglas was killed, but his death was concealed 
and his men won the battle. 

280. Timsel Glen. ' ' Where James encamped before taking 
post on Flodden."— Scott. 

282. By law of arms. The squire was forced to watch his 
armor in church the night before his knighting. 
307. Red Earl Gilbert. See note on VI., 128. 

327. Bishop. ' ' The well-known Gawain Douglas, Bishop of 
Dunkeld, son of Archibald Bell-the-Cat, Earl of Angus. He 
was author of a Scottish metrical version of the JEneid, and 
of many other poetical pieces of great merit. He had not at 
this period attained the mitre." — Scott. 

329. Rocquet, a linen surplice. 

335. Bunkeld, a town in the central part of Scotland, close 
to the Highlands. 

341. Sweeping brand. ''Angus had strength and personal 
activity corresponding to his courage. Spens of Kilspindie, a 



Caxto VI.] NOTES 261 

favourite of James IV., having spoken of him lightly, the Earl 
met him while hawking, and, compelling him to single combat, 
at one blow cut asunder his thigh-bone, and killed him on the 
spot. But ere he could obtain James's pardon for this slaughter, 
Angus was obliged to yield his castle of Hermitage, in exchange 
for that of Bothwell, which was some diminution to the family 
greatness. The sword with which he struck so remarkable a 
blow, was presented by his descendant, James Earl of Morton, 
afterwards Regent of Scotland, to Lord Lindesay of the Byres, 
when he defied Bothwell to single combat on Carberry-hill. 
See Introduction to The Miustrelsy of the Scottish Border.'''' — 
Scott. 

342. Wont. See note on II., 587. 

379. Foul fall him, may evil befall him. 

389. Stoop, fly down to attack the prey ; or, perhaps, lower 
his flight. See I., 287, and IV., 585. 

392. Plain, complain. See note on III. , 188. 

422. JVay, never look upon your lord, etc. These lines are 
spoken to the vassals, who are preparing to resent the insult to 
their master. 

435. Saint Bride, Saint Bridget of Ireland, called in Scot- 
land and England Saint Bride. 

437. Portcullis. See note on I. , 55. 

*' This ebullition of violence in the potent Earl of Angus is 
not without its examples in the real history of the house of 
Douglas, whose chieftains possessed the ferocity with the 
heroic virtues of a savage state. The most curious instance 
occurred in the case of Maclellan, tutor of Bomby, who, hav- 
ing refused to acknowledge the pre-eminence claimed by 
Douglas over the gentlemen and Barons of Galloway, was 
seized and imprisoned by the Earl, in his castle of theThrieve, 
on the borders of Kirkcudbright-shire. Sir Patrick Gray, 
commander of King James the Second's guard, was uncle to 
the tutor of Bomby, and obtained from the King ' a sweet 
letter of supplication,' praying the Earl to deliver his prisoner 
into Gray's hand. When Sir Patrick arrived at the castle, he 
was received with all the honour due to a favourite servant of 
the King's household ; but wdiile he was at dinner, the Earl, 
who suspected his errand, caused his prisoner to be led forth 
and beheaded. After dinner, Sir Patrick presented the King's 
letter to the Earl, who received it with great affectation of rever- 
ence ; ' and took him by the hand, and led him forth to the 
green, where the gentleman was lying dead, and showed him 
the manner, and said, " Sir Patrick, you are come a little too 
late ; yonder is your sister's son lying, but he wants the head : 
take his body, and do with it what you will." Sir Patrick 



262 HARM I ON [Canto VI. 

answered again with a sore heart, and said, ' ' My lord, if ye 
have taken from him his head, dispone upon the body as ye 
please:" and with that called for his horse, and leaped 
thereon ; and when he was on horseback, he said to the Earl 
on this manner, "My lord, if I live, yon shall be rewarded 
for your labours, that you have used at this time, according to 
your demerits. " At this saying the Earl was highly offended, 
and cried for horse. Sir Patrick, seeing the Earl's fury, spurred 
his horse, but he was chased near Edinburgh ere they left 
him : and had it not been his led horse was so tried and good, 
he had been taken ' (Pitscottie's History).'''' — Scott. 

456. ISaint Jude to speed. See notes on III., 429, and VI., 
867. 

457. So foul a deed. *' Lest the reader should partake of 
the Earl's astonishment, and consider the crime as inconsist- 
ent with the manners of the period, I have to remind him 
of the numerous forgeries (partly executed by a female assist- 
ant) devised by Robert of Artois, to forward his suit against 
the Countess Matilda ; which, being detected, occasioned his 
flight into England, and proved the remote cause of Edward 
the Third's memorable wars in France. John Harding, also, 
was expressly hired by Edward IV. to forge such documents 
as might appear to establish the claim of fealty asserted over 
Scotland by the English monarchs." — Scott. 

458. Liked, pleased. 

460. Saint Botlian, a cousin of Saint Columba and his suc- 
cessor at lona. See note on I., 306. 

463. Boy-Mshop. Gawain Douglas was born in 1474, and 
became a bishop in 1515. 

481. Spell, make out. 

486. Bell-tlie-Cat. See note on V., 398. 

499. Sheriff Sholto, one of Douglas's sons. 

500. The Master. "His eldest son, the Master of Angus." — 
Scott. 

512. Cotswold. Seel., 174. 
518. Speed, here, good fortune. 

540. LenneVs convent. "This was a Cistercian house of 
religion, now almost entirely demolished. Lennel House is 
now the residence of my venerable friend, Patrick Brydone, 
Esquire, so well known in the literary world. It is situated 
near Coldstream, almost opposite Cornhill, and consequently 
very near to Flodden Field." — Scott. 

545. Reverend pilgrim, Patrick Brydone, spoken of above. 

546. Bernardine brood, monks of Saint Bernard of Clair- 
vaux, a Cistercian of the twelfth century. See note on V., 900. 



Canto VI.] NOTES 263 

553. Flodden edge. Flodden Hill, the northeastern ex- 
tremity of the Cheviot range. 

573. Tioisel Bridge. "On the evening previous to the 
memorable battle of Flodden, Surrey's headquarters were at 
Barmoor Wood, and King James held an inaccessible position 
on the ridge of Flodden-hill, one of the last and lowest emi- 
nences detached from the ridge of Cheviot. The Till, a deep 
and slow river, winded between the armies. On the morning 
of the 9th September, 1513, Surrey marched in a north-westerly 
direction, and crossed the Till, with his van and artillery, at 
Twisel Bridge, nigh where that river joins the Tweed, his rear- 
guard column passing about a mile higher, by a ford. This 
movement had the double effect of j)lacing his army between 
King James and his supplies from Scotland, and of striking 
the Scottish monarch with surprise, as he seems to have relied 
on the depth of the river in his front. But as the passage, 
both over the bridge and through the ford, was difficult and 
slow, it seems possible that the English might have been at- 
tacked to great advantage Avhile struggling with these natural 
obstacles. I know not if we are to impute James's forbearance 
to want of military skill, or to the romantic declaration which 
Pitscottie puts in his mouth, ' that he was determined to have 
his enemies before him on a plain field,' and therefore would 
suffer no interruption to be given, even by artillery, to their 
passing the river. ' ' — Scott. 

57.4. Haughty, lofty. Cf. "this haughty great attempt." 
King Henry VI., First Part, ii. , v. 

593. Saint Helen. " Beneath a tall rock near the bridge is 
a plentiful fountain, called St. Helen's Well." — Scott. 

608. Vails, lowers. See note on III., 234. 

609. Douglas; Sir James Douglas, one of Robert Bruce's best 
lieutenants. See note on VI. , 34. 

610. Randolph, the Earl of Murray, another of Bruce's offi- 
cers. 

613. Saint Aiidrew, the patron saint of Scotland. 

616. Bannockhourne, the battle fought in 1314, in which 
Robert Bruce overthrew Edward II. of England, and estab- 
lished the independence of Scotland. 

626. Hap what hap, come what may. See III., 416. 

627. Ba.s-net, a light helmet. 

657. Leat, a tributary of the Tweed. 

700. Amain. See note on Introduction to Canto I., 91. 

715. Stout Stanley, Sir EdAvard Stanley, who commanded 
the men from Lancashire and Chester. 

716. Vaward, vanguard. 



264 3IABMI0JS' [Canto VI. 

717. Brian Tunstall. "Sir Brian Tunstall, called in the 
romantic language of the time, Tunstall the Undefilecl, was 
one of the few Englishmen of rank slain at Flodden. He 
figures in the ancient EngUsh poem, to which I may safely 
refer my readers, as an edition, with full explanatory notes, 
has been published by my friend Mr. Henry Weber. Tunstall, 
perhaps, derived his epithet of iiudefiled from his white armour 
and banner, the latter bearing a white cock, about to crow, as 
well as from his unstained loyalty and knightly faith. His 
place of residence was Thurland Castle." — Scott. 

723. Edmund, Sir Edmund Howard, Knight Marshal of 
the Army, son of the Earl of Surrey. The Admiral, another 
one of Surrey's sons, Thomas Howard, Admiral of England. 

743. Gilded si^urs. See note on I., 95. 

773. Shroud, covering, asin V., 731. 

777. Seametv, a kind of gull. 

795. Badenoch-man. Badenoch is the southeastern district 
of the Highlands. 

797. Huntly, Home, two Scottish earls who commanded the 
left wing. They were at first successful in their charge, but 
Home is accused of allowing his Borderers to straggle and pil- 
lage, and so of losing the advantage which he had won. 

799. Le7inox and Argyle, the Scottish Earls commanding 
the Scottish right wing, opposed to the English left. 

823. Bid your heads, pray on the beads. Bid and bead are 
the same in root, from the Anglo-Saxon Mddan, to ask. Beads 
were originally prayers, then the balls of the rosary which 
marked theiu. 

838. Housing. See note on I., 91. 

867. Sped, killed. Speed, to hasten, came to be used in a 
special sense, implying good fortune, as "Saint George to 
speed, ' ' or in a case of misfortune, as here, hastened to death. 

881. Bacre. Lord Dacre commanded the reserves. 

892. Varlets. A varlet was originally the son of a noble, 
then a page or follower. 

914. Rminel, a brook or run. 

976. Shake not the dying siniier's sand. Do not by disturb- 
ing him cause his life to ebb faster, as sand is shaken down in 
the hour-glass. 

1004. Eoricesvalles, a valley in the Pyrenees, the scene of the 
slaughter of Charlemagne's rear-guard under Roland or Or- 
lando, by the Saracens, in 778. When the paladins or chief- 
knights were almost all slain, Orlando blew upon his magic 



Canto VI.] NOTES 265 

horn, whose notes carried to Charlemagne, thirty miles away 
in Fontarabia, the tidings of the disaster, 

1006. Plunder. See note on VI., 797. 

1018. Tilmouth, a town in Northumberland, northeast of 
Flodden. 

1034. Impenetrable wood. Cf. "the spearmen's twilight 
wood," in The Lady of the Lake, Canto VI., xvii., 17. 

1073. Yon Border castle, Home Castle. See note on 1081 below. 

1081. And fell on Flodden plain. "There can be no doubt 
that King James fell in the battle of Flodden. He was killed, 
says the curious French Gazette, within a lance's length of 
the Earl of Surrey ; and the same account adds, that none of 
his division were made prisoners, though many were killed ; a 
circumstance that testifies the desperation of their resistance. 
The Scottish historians record many of the idle reports which 
passed among the vulgar of their day. Home was accused, by 
the popular voice, not only of failing to support the King, but 
even of having carried him out of the field, and murdered 
him. And this tale was revived in my remembrance, by an 
unauthenticated story of a skeleton, wrapped in a bull's hide, 
and surrounded with an iron chain, said to have been found 
in the well of Home Castle, for which, on enquiry, I could 
never find any better authority than the sexton of the parish 
having said, that, if the well were cleaned out, he would not 
he surprised at such a discovery. Home was the chamberlain 
of the King, and his prime favourite ; he had much to lose 
(in fact did lose all) in consequence of James's death, and 
nothing earthly to gain by that event ; but the retreat, or in- 
activity, of the left wing, which he commanded, after defeat- 
ing Sir Edmund Howard, and even the circumstance of his 
returning unhurt, and loaded with spoil, from so fatal a con- 
flict, rendered the propagation of any calumny against him 
easy and acceptable. Other reports gave a still more roman- 
tic turn to the King's fate, and av^erred, that James, weary of 
greatness after the carnage among his nobles, had gone on 
a pilgrimage, to merit absolution for the death of his father, 
and the breach of his oath of amity to Henry. In particular, 
it was objected to the English, that they could never show the 
token of the iron belt ; which, however, he was likely enough 
to have laid aside on the day of battle, as encumbering 
his personal exertions. They produce a better evidence, the 
monarch's sAvord and dagger, which are still preserved in the 
Herald's College in London. Stowe has recorded a degrading 
story of the disgrace with which the remains of the unfortu- 
nate monarch were treated in his time. An unhewn column 
marks the spot where James fell, still called the King's Stone." 
— Scott. 



266 MARMION [Canto VI. 

1090. Lichfield: s lofty pile. Lichfield Cathedral. 

1095. Brook. "This stomi of Lichfield Cathedral, which 
had been g-arrisoned on tlie part of the King, took place in the 
great Civil War. Lord Brook, who, with Sir John Gill, com- 
manded the assailants, was shot with a musket-ball through 
the vizor of his helmet. The royalists remarked that he was 
killed by a shot fired from St. Chad's Cathedral, and upon 
St. Chad's day, and received his death- wound in the very eye 
with which, he had said, he hoped to see the ruin of all the 
cathedrals in England. The magnificent church in question 
suffered cruelly upon this, and other occasions ; the principal 
spire being ruined by the fire of the besiegers." — Scott. 

1100. Couchant, lying. 

1104. Blazed, blazoned. 

1111. '■^Wede away.'" An old ballad describes the loss of 
Scotland at Flodden in the refrain, ' ' The flowers of the for- 
est are a' wede away. ' ' 

1155. Holinshed or Hall. English chroniclers of the six- 
teenth century. 

1160. Bearings, devices which marked his particular achieve- 
ments at Flodden. See note on I., 165. 

1168. 3Iore, Sands, and Benny, courtiers of King Henry. 

1170. Catherine. Henry's first wife, divorced in 1533. The 
stocking threw, an allusion to an old custom of pelting the 
wedded pair with their stockings the morning after the mar- 
riage. 

NOTES TO L'ENVOY. 

3. Speed. See note on VI., 867. 

4. Rede. Story. 



SUGGESTED EXAMINATION QUESTIONS AND TOPICS 
FOR FURTHER STUDY.' 

1. Explain : 

" The leaden silence of your hearse (Introd. to Canto I., 

199)." 
" Sober he seemed and sad of chee7' (V., 56)." 
" Wealth of winter cheer (III., 47)." 
*' Well dost thou brook thy gallant roan (I., 149)." 
"And Avell could brook the mild command (VI., 121)." 
"Such buxom chief shall lead his host (Introd. to IV., 

202)." 
" St. George to speed (III., 429) ! " 
"That spear- wound has our master sped (VI., 867)." 
" When joins yon host in deadly stoivre (IV., 679)." 
" On the iimrp'd wave their death-game played (Introd. 

to Canto III., 92)." 

2. Define : toassel, beadsman, pursuivant, trews, bratchet, 
sewer, wager of battle. 

3. Wlio was Brunswick? What justified Scott's extended 
reference to him in the Introduction to Canto III. ? 

4. Compare Scott's treatment of Pitt with that of Fox, in 
the Introduction to Canto I., and account for the difference. 

5. Discuss briefly Scott's defence of his choice of subject 
matter and literary method as outlined in the Introductory 
Epistle to Erskine. Describe the influences by which Scott 
was impelled to this choice. 

6. Write a short essay on one of the following topics : 

The influence of Scott's private life upon his literary 

career. 
Scott's feeling for nature as illustrated by Marmion. 

J The examination questions are included as an indication of the proportion which 
may profitably be observed among the several points of view from which the poem 
may be studied. The topics appear only for their possible suggestive value. It has 
not seemed wise to trench further upon a field which belongs to the practical sense 
of the teacher, and in which assistance, however well meant, is perhaps as likely 
to prove an embarrassment as a help. 



268 MARMION 

7. What descriptive value have the following passages : 
IV., 605-611 ; IV., 628-634. 

8. Criticise VI., 293-810 and VI., 798-818. Which passage 
do you like better and why ? 



TOPICS FOR FURTHER STUDY. 

The following subjects, which may suggest others, are to be 
assigned to classes for essays requiring additional study and 
preparation outside the class-room : 

1. Compare Marmion with The Lady of the Lake as speci- 
mens of narration. 

2. Compare the characters in Marmion with those in one of 
Scott's prose works, e.g., De Wilton with Ivanhoe, Marmion 
with Bois-Guilbert, Constance with Rebecca, Clare with 
Rowena. What general conclusions can you draw in regard 
to Scott's selection of characters and methods of portrayal? 

3. Why was Scott, in the opinion of the British public, sur- 
passed as a poet by Byron ? (See Byron's earlier poems.) 

4. The Homeric spirit in Scott's poetry. (See Principal 
Shairp's essay in Aspects of Poetry.) 

5. Are Carlyle's strictures on Scott justified ? (See Carlyle's 
Essay on Sir Walter Scott.) 

6. Scott's friends and their influence upon him. 

7. Scott and Wordsworth as poets of nature. 

8. The verse of Marmion compared with that of The Lay of 
the Last 3Iinstrel. (See Coleridge's Christahel for its alleged 
influence on Scott's verse.) 

9. The use of color in 3Iarmion. 

10. The political atmosphere in which Marmion was written. 



INDEX TO NOTES 



[The Roman numerals refer to tlie Canto ; the Arabic, to the line.] 



Abercromby, Sir Ralph, Int. 

III., 94. 
Achaius, IV., 142, 578. 
Acre, Int. III., 86. 
Advanced, I., 139. 
Aisles, Int. I., 146. 
Albion, Int. I., 90. 
Alexander, III., 325. 
Alne, II., 142. 

Amain, Int. I., 91; Int. VI., 195. 
Ancient ravsterv, Int. VI., 75. 
Angels, I.; 146; 429. 
Angle, Int. IV., 52. 
Ape, Int. III., 152. 
Arcadia, Int. IV., 105. 
Archibald Bell-the-Cat, V., 398; 

VI.. 341, 437. 
Argent, IV., 119. 
Argvle, VI., 799. 
Ariel, Int. IV., 181. 
Arminius, Int. III., 78. 
Arran, III., 358. 
As, I., 447; Int. III., 106. 
Ascapart, Int. I., 314. 
Attributed, Int. IV., 145. 
Auchnaslaid, IV., 469. 
Aventayle, Int. V., 72. 
Aves, I., 453. 
Avon, Int. III., 101. 
Ay ton, I., 301. 
Azure, IV., 119. 

Badenoch-man, VI,, 795. 
Baillie, Joanna, Int. III., 103. 
Baldrick, V., 221. 
Bamborough, II., 148. 
Bandrol, IV., 566. 
Bannockbourne, VI., 616. 
Bartisan, VI., 45. 



Basil, Int. III., 108. 

Basnet, VI., 627. 

Bass, v., 840. 

Bastion, VI., 46. 

Batavia, Int. III., 130. 

Battled, I., 4; Int. V., 90. 

Beadsman, VI., 174. 

Bearings, VI. , 1160. 

Bear the ring awav, I., 98. 

Beattie, Int. IV., 133. 

Becket, IV., 13. 

Bell, v., 899. 

Bells, IV., 291. 

Benedicite, II., 30. 

Benedictine School, II., 70. 

Ben Nevis, Int. III., 151. 

Bent, Int. II., 133; VI., 744. 

Bernardines, VI., 546. 

Berwick-Law, IV., 623. 

Bid vour beads, VI., 823. 

Bill, I., 104. 

Bittern, Int. II., 219. 

Blackhouse Heights, Int. IV., 37. 

Blazed, VI., 1104. 

Blazon'd, I., 165. 

Blessed night, III., 407. 

Blessed tomb, I., 391. 

Block, 11., 530. 

Bloody heart, VI., 34. 

Blue bonnets o'er the Border, V.. 

505. 
Blvthe, II., 136. 
Book, v.. 899. 

Border Minstrel, Int. I., 203. 
Borough-Moor, IV., 260, 521. 
Borthwick's Sisters Seven, IV., 

557. 
Bosworth field, I., 65. 
Bothwell Castle, V., 402. 



270 



INDEX TO NOTES 



Bothwell, James, IV., 254. 

Bound, I., 504. 

Bourbon's relics, Int. V., 120. 

Bourhope, Int. II., 189. 

BowhiU, Int. II., 73. 

Bowl, II. , 124. 

Bowne, IV., 487. 

Bowver, II. . 29G. 

Braid Hills, IV., 497. 

Brandenburg, Int. III., 54. 

Bratchet, Int. II., 42. 

Brawn, Int. VI., 56. 

Breviary. VI., 85. 

Brigantines, V., 41. 

Brook, I, 149, 257. 

Brook, Lord, VI., 1095. 

Bruce, Robert, Int. III., 197. 

Brunswick, Int. III., 40. 

Brydone, Patrick, VI., 545. 

Buffet bide. III., 417. 

Bulmer, Bryan, IV., 4G1. 

Burghers, V., 36. 

Bush and Flagon, III., 31. 

But, II., 408. 

Bute, III., 358. 

Buxom, III., 78 ; Int. IV., 202. 

By, v., 552. 

Caledonia's Queen, Int. V., 37. 

Cambria, Int. VI., 157. 

Camp, Int. IV., 174. 

Cannobie Lee, V., 357. 

Candle, V., 899. 

Cap of Maintenance, IV., 135. 

Carterhaugh, Int. II., 83, 

Carve at board, I., 100. 

Cast, IV., 47, 357. 

Catherine, Queen, VI., 1170. 

Caxton, IV., 91. 

Celtic race, V., 102. 

Chalice, Int. VI., 33. 

Championess, Int. V., 62. 

Champion of the Lake, Int. I., 

258. 
Chapter of Saint Benedict, II., 83. 
Charmed spear. Int. V., 64, 
Checks, I. , 88. 
Cheer, III., 47; Int. IV., 128; V., 

56, 244. 
Cheviot Fell. IL, 629. 
Chief, VI , 35. 
Chose, II. , 450. 



1 Clerk, III., 324; V., 661. 
Clips, Int. VL, 120. 
Cloth-yard arrows, V., 18. 
Cloth-yard shaft, I., 122. 
Cochran, V., 398, 444. 
Coign, VI., 46. 
Columbella, Int. V., 82. 
Colwulf, II., 316. 
Combust, III., 373. 
Coquet-isle, II., 140. 
Cotswold, I.. 174; VI. , 512. 
Couch, I., 222; III., 428. 
Couchant, VI., 1100. 
Coventry, V., 914. 
Crabs, 1,384. 
Cresset, II., 350. 
Crichtoun Castle, IV., 194. 
Crosier, II., 576. 
Cross of Edinburgh, V., 709. 
Croupe, v., 32, 351. 
Cunninghame, III., 358. 
Curvett, v., 33. 
Cuthbert, II., 256, 293, 300. 
Cypress, Int. IV., 125. 

Dacre, VL, 881. 

Danes, Int. VL, 7. 

Daoine, Shi', Int. VI. , 163. 

Darkling, III., 551 ; Int. V., 23. 

David I., IL, 287. 

Dead-bell, III., 217. 

Deadman's-shaw, L, 206. 

Dean, IV., 252. 

Deas, I., 195. 

Deborah, V., 928. 

Dedicated, IL, 39. 

Demi-volte, IV., 632. 

Despiteously, V., 585. 

Devon, Int.' III., 150. 

De Worde, IV., 91. 

Dight, I., 88: Int. VL, 78. 

Dint, I., 400. 

Donjon keep, L, 4. 

Doom, IL, 598; Int. III., 216. 

Doublet breast, II. , 388. 

Double tressure, IV., 141, 578. 

Douglas, Archibald, V., 398; VL, 

341, 437. 
Douglas, Gawain, VL. 327, 463. 
Douglas, James, V., 432 ; VL, 609. 
Dragon, Int. III., 59. 
Droraouchtv, IV., 470. 



INDEX TO NOTES 



271 



Drvden, Int. I., 275. 
Drvliope, Int. II., 19G. 
Dub, VI., 269. 
Dunbar, I., 305. 
Dun-Edin, IV., 490. 
Dunfermline Abbey, III., 498. 
Dunkeld, VI., 335. 
Dunstanborough, II., 147. 
Durham, I., 338; II., 280. 

Ecstasy, Int. I., 217. 

Edelfled, II., 244; V., G27. 

Edward I., III., 453. 

Egypt, Int. I., 82. 

Ellis, George, Int. V. 

Elves, Int. II., 82. 

Enchantress, Int. III., 103. 

Enow, I., 303. 

Envy, II., 452. 

Erskine, William, Int. III. 

Eske, v., 320. 

Etall, v., 1001. 

Ettrick Forest, Int. II., 2 ; Int. V., 

36. 
Ettrick Pen, Int. IV., 37. 



Eair achievement, Int. I., 310. 

Falkland-woods, IV., 655. 

Father of the fight. Int. III., 94. 

Fay, I., 387. 

Featherstonhaugh, I., 205. 

Featly, VI., 261. 

Fell, Int. I., 20. 

Fell (cruel), III., 461. 

Field, VI., 34. 

Fleur-de-lis, IV., 143. 

Flodden Edge, VI., 553. 

Following, v., 157. 

Fond, v., 935. 

Fontenave, I., 157. 

Fontevraud, II., 398. 

Forbes, Sir William, Int. IV., 132 

Ford, I., 193. 

Fordun, Int. VI., 212. 

Forest-Sherifle, Int. II., 85. 

Fosse, I., 277. 

Foul fall him, VI., 379. 

Foully sped. III., 506. 

Fox, Charles James, Int. I., 127 

154. 
Franchemont, Int. VI., 169 



Fretted, Int. I., 146 ; VI., 78. 
Friar Rush, IV., 31. 
Frontlet, VI., 71. 
Full career. III., 447. 

Gadite, Int. I., 72. 

Galliard, V., 344. 

Galwegians, II., 289. 

Gammons, III., 49. 

Ganore, Int. I., 263. 

Garry's lake. Int. III., 151. 

Gaul, Int. I., 320. 

Gave, III., 335. 

Gazehound, Int. II., 41. 

Giant's Grave, Int. II., 261. 

Gifford, III., 22. 

Gilded spurs, I., 95; VI., 743. 

Glanced, I., 141. 

Glenkinnon's Rill, Int. I. , 30. 

Glenmore, IV., 470. 

Goblin-Hall, III., 333. 

Gorget, v., 41. 

Gothic, Int. I., 204. 

Graems, V., 355. 

Gramercy, I., 421; III., 412; IV., 

59. 
Grandame's child. Int. III., 225. 
Greenlaw, I., .308. 
Gripple, Int. VI., 220. 
Grislv. II., 438; III., 382. 
Guelders, V., 594. 
Gules, IV., 119, 

Haco, III., 354. 
Hafnia, Int. I., 82. 
Hagbut, V. , 54. 
Halbert, I.. 104. 
Hale, II., 211. 
Half-dressed, Int. VI., 12. 
Hall, Int. I., 321. 
Hall, a, v., 501. 
Hanger, Int. VI., 179. 
Hardriding Dick, I., 203. 
Harried, I., 308. 
Harquebuss,' Int. II., 48. 
Hasted, I., 38. 
Hasty mass, I., 534. 
Haughtv, VI., 574. 
Hav^ Gilbert, III., 508. 
7, Hearse, Int. I., 199; Int. III., 4G 
Heaven. Int. I, 23. 
Heber, Richard, Int. VI. 



^n 



INDEX TO NOTES 



Hebudes, IV., 535. 

Henry VI., Int. V., 118. 

Hepburn, Sir Adam, IV., 248. 

Hermitage Castle, V., 400. 

Heron, Lady, V. , 260. 

High tide. Int. VI., 69. 

Hogg, James, Int. II., 202; III. 

217. 
Holinshed, VI., 1155. 
Holt, Int. II., 61. 
Holy Grail, Int. I, 267. 
Holy Isle, II. , 10. 
Holy-Rood, I., 351. 
Home Castle, VI., 1073. 
Home, Lord, VL, 797. 
Horncliflf-hill, I., 29. 
Hosen, I., 116. 
Housing, I,, 91. 
Howard, Edmund, VI., 723. 
Howard, Thomas, VI. , 723. 
How true he fell, II., 537. 
Hugh the Heron, L, 192. 
Humble, IV., 69. 
Huntly, Lord, VL, 797. 

loL, Int. VI., 7. 
Imp, Int. I., 37 ; Int. III., 225. 
Inviolable dome, V., 947. 
Isis, Int. II., 264. 

Jacques, Int. IV., 4. 
Jael, v., 928. 
James IIL, IV., 298. 
Jerkins, I., 116. 
Judith, v., 926. 

Katharine's Aisle, IV., 312. 
Kerr, Sir Robert, V., 260, 382. 
Keys of Rome, IV., 133. 
Kindred title. Int. VI., 89. 
Kirn, Int. IV., 101. 
Kirtle, V., 101. 
Knosp, Int. V., 106. 
Kyle, IIL, 358. 

Lack, L, 312. 
Larabie Isle, V., 840. 
Lammermoor, IIL, 19. 
Largesse, I. , 163. 
Largs, IIL, 472. 
Lauderdale, I., 307. 
Laverock, Int IV., 177. 



Law, IV., 623; v., 836. 

Leaguer, IV., 672; VI., 9. 

Leash, 1., 284. 

Leat, VI. , 657. 

Lennel, VL, 540. 

Lennox, VL, 799. 

Leopards, III., 457. 

Levin, Int. L, 73. 

Leyden, John, Int. VI., 143. 

Lichfield Cathedral, VI. , 1090. 

Liddell's tide, V., 96. 

Light to set their hoods, L, 309. 

Liked, VL , 458. 

Limbo, Int. VI., 139. 

Lindesay, Sir David, IV., 153. 

Lindisfarne, IL, 10; IIL, 127. 

Linlithgow, IV., 287; V., 287. 

Linn, Int. L, 3; Int. II., 259. 

Linstock, I., 134. 

Lion-mettled, Int. I., 308. 

Listed, I., 108. 

Lists, I., 174. 

Living tomb, II. , 569. 

Lochaber, Int. IIL, 149. 

Lochinvar, V., 313, 

Loch Skene, Int. IL, 239. 

Loch Vennachar, III., 307, 

Locidiis Bos, Int. VI. , 150. 

Lodon, IL, 290; IV., 536. 

Loophole grates, I., 5. 

Lord Lion King-at-Arms, IV., 154. 

Lord Scott, Int. II. , 84. 

Lordings, I., 171. 

Loretto, I., 467, 

Love-lorn, III., 122. 

Lower, Int. V., 58; V., 245, 418. 

Mace, V., 45. 

Mackenzie, Colin, Int, IV., 191. 

Mad Tom, Int. IV., 206. 

Maida, Int. VL, 161. 

Mail, v., 24. 

Makes, VI. , 131. 

Malbecco, Int.V., 67. 

Malcolm, IIL, 420. 

Malison, V., 717, 

Malvoisie, I., 43. 

Mantles, IIL, 281, 

Margaret, I., 281. 

Marie de France, Int. V., 146. 

Mark, I., 161, 

Mark of separation, Int. VI., 55, 



INDEX TO NOTES 



273 



Marriot, Rev. John, Int. II. 
Martin, Rev. John, Int. III., 218. 
Massv More, IV., 282. 
Master of Angus, VI., 500. 
Maudlin, v., 100. 
Melrose, II., 263. 
Merse, III., 6. 
Mertoun House, Int. VI. 
Metal'd, Int. III., 91. 
Mettled, I., 33. 
Milan steel, I., 79. 
Millfield Plain, V., 1017. 
Milton's heavenly theme. Int. I., 

274. 
Mimosa, Int. IV., 196. 
Monk-Wearmouth, II , 132. 
Montfort, Int. III., 108. 
Montserrat, I., 403. 
Morgana, Int. I., 259. 
Morion, I., 130. 
Morrice-pikes, I., 139. 
Mortal, II., 523. 
Motley, Int. IV., 3. 
Mount, IV., 153. 
Mullets, VI., 35. 
Mumming, Int. VI., 74. 
Musing, v., 59. 
Myrtle, Int. IV., 125. 

Nave, III., 498. 
Needpath-fell, Int. I., 20. 
Newark, Int. II., 32 ; Int. V., 

35. 
Noll Bluff, Int. VI., 131. 
Norham, I., 1. 
North Berwick, V., 836. 
Northern Avar, III. , 483. 
Nottingham, V., 489. 
Novice, II., 44. 



Oaten Reed, Int. IV., 104. 

Oberon, Int. II., 87. 

Ochil Mountains, IV., 619. 

Odin's hall. Int. VI., 23. 

Offices, IV., 302. 

Or, IV., 119. 

Oriana, Int. I., 322. 

Ormistone, Sandy, Int. III., 180. 

Otterburne, VI., 271. 

Our Lady's Chapel, Int. II., 177. 

Outlaw Murray, Int. II., 55. 



Palinure, Int. I., 111. 

Palmer, I., 389. 

Palsied, Int. I., 254. 

Pardoner, I., 324. 

Paridell, Int. V., 84. 

Parted, I., 20; V., 470. 

Partenopex, Int. I., 325. 

Parting, II., 621. 

Passing, I., 101. 

Passing bell, II., 620. 

Pensil, IV., 566. 

Pentacle, III., 369. 

Pharaoh's Magi, III.. 367. 

Pictishrace, III., 438. 

Pied, v., 100. 

Piled, v., 213. 

Pinching, Int. I., 23. 

Pipe, I., 43. 

Pitscottie, Int. VI., 205. 

Pitt, William, Int. I., 80. 

Plaid, Int. III., 139. 

Plain'd, III., 188. 

Plate, v., 24. 

Plight, II., 520. 

Plump, I., 29. 

Point of war, IV., 99. 

Pointed aisle, II., 173. 

Polydore, Int. VI., 148. 

Portcullis, I., 55. 

Post and pair, Int. VI., 45. 

PoAver (array), I., 300. 

Power (magic), III., 331. 

Practised, II., 124; III., 243. 

Preston-Bav, IV., 623. 

Priam, Int. IV., 112. 

Prick, Int. I., 294; III., 592. 

Pricker, V., 75. 

Priest of Shoreswood, I., 342. 

Prime, IV., 646. 

Princedoms reft, Int. Ill,, 69. 

Pringle, of Whytbank, Int. II. 

106. 
Ptarmigan, III., 17. 
Pursuivants, I., 151; IV., 116. 

QUAIGHS, III., 510. 
Quaint, V., 662. 
Quarry, Int. II., 45. 



Raby, I., 238. 
Rack, Int. IV., 42. 



.274 



INDEX TO NOTES 



Eacking, III., 395. 

Rae, Sir William, Int. IV., 194. 

Ramp'd, IV., 578. 

Randolph, VI., GIO. 

Ravens, III., 479. 

Recreant, V., 012. 

Red-Cross hero, Int. III., 81. 

Red de Clare, VI., 128, 307. 

Rede, L'Envoy, 4. 

Red King, Int. I., 315. 

Redswire, IV., 537. 

Resolve, Int. I., 135. 

Rest, II., 526. 

Retrograde, III., 373. 

Reversed, I., 185. 

Rocquet, VL, 329. 

Roncesvalles, VI., 1004. 

Rose, William Stewart, Int. I. 

Rosse, IV., 538. 

Rothiemurcus, IV., 467. 

Round, Int. I., 50. 

Rovers, II., 181. 

Rowan, Int. 11. , 15. 

Runnel, VI., 914. 

Ruth, II., 376. 

Sackbut, IV. , 640. 

Saint Andrew, VI., 613. 

Saint Anthony, V., 931. 

Saint Bede, I., 354. 

Saint Bothan, I. , 306 ; VI. , 460. 

Saint Bride, VI., 435. 

Saint Cuthbert, II., 256, 293,300. 

Saint Cuthbert's Beads, II., 300. 

Saint Fillan, I., 509. 

Saint George, I., 14, 408; III., 

429. 
Saint Giles, IV., 508. 
Saint Helen, VI., 593. 
Saint James's cockle-shell, I., 402. 
Saint Jude, VI., 456. 
Saint Katherine, IV., 312, 650. 
Saint Mary's Lake, Int. II., 147. 
Saint Rocque, IV., 651. 
Saint Rosalie, I., 404. 
Saint Rule, I., 506. 
Saint Thomas, I., 409. 
Saint Valentine, III., 120. 
Saint Withold, V., 704. 
Salem, I., 390. 
Saltoun, IV., 69. 
Salvo-shot, I., 50. 



Satyrane, Int. V., 84. 

Scalds, Int. VI., 17. 

Scallop shell, I., 465. 

Scarlet ranks, Int. III., 201. 

Scaur, v., 353. 

Scheme, V., 665. 

Scot, Reginald, III., 362. 

Scott, Robert, Int. III., 211. 

Scott, Walter, Int. VI., 95. 

Scrivelbaye, I., 157. 

Scroll, IV., 566; V., 538. 

Scutcheons of honor, IV., 215. 

Scutcheons of pretence, IV., 215. 

Sea-dog, II., 33. 

Seamew, VI., 777. 

Seaton-Delaval, II., 135. 

Seem'd, Int. III., 67. 

Selle, III., 599. 

Seneschal, I., 42. 

Sewer, I., 42. 

Sexhelm, II., 324. • 

Shade, VI., 193. 

Shafted stalk, II., 173. 

Shaggy, Int. II., 156. 

Sheen, V., 215; Int. VI., 34. 

Sheriff Sholto, VI., 499. 

Shoreswood, I., 342. 

Shrieve, I., 362. 

Shrilling, Int. I., 238. 

Shroud, v., 731 ; VI., 773. 

Simnel, Lambert, V., 588. 

Skene, James, Int. IV. 

Sleights, Int. III., 194. 

Slogan, v., 73. 

Slough, VI., 218. 

Smailholm tower, Int. III., 178. 

So, I., 500. 

So please you. III., 114. 

Soar her swing, I., 286. 

Soared sable, I., 86. 

Solands, III., 48. 

Solway, v., 332. 

Soothly, III., 416. 

Sped, IIL, 506; VI., 867. 

Speed, III., 429; VI., 456, 513. 

Spell, VI., 481. 

Spenser's elfin dream, Int. I., 273. 

Spirit's Blasted Tree, Int. VI., 159. 

Sprite, VI., 236. 

Squire of Dames, Int. V., 81. 

Stal worth, I., 62. 

Stanley, Sir Edward, VI., 715. 



INDEX TO NOTES 



275 



Stared, II., 588. 
Still, I., 430; II., 36, 458. 
Stirrup-cup, I., 538. 
Stocking threw, VI., 1170. 
Stokefield, V., 590. 
Stoled, Int. VI., 33. 
Stoop, VI., 389. 
Stowre, IV., 679. 
Strength, Int. III., 183. 
Stvle, II., 378. 
Surrey, I., 300. 
Suspended pause, IV., 367. 
Susquehanna, III., 143. 



Tabards, I., 151. 
Tables, I. , 372. 
Tame. V., 633. 
Taraworth, V., 484. 
Tantallon Castle, V , 429. 
Targe, VI., 133. 
Tarquin, Int. I., 265 
Terouenne, VI., 8. 
Teviotdale, II., 291. 
Thessalian, Int. I., 177. 
Thistle, IV., 143. 
Tide what tide. III., 416. 
Tillmouth, I., 342; VI , 1018. 
Timeless, Int. III., 223. 
Tirante, Int. IV., 172. 
Toledo, V. , 220. 
Tomantoul, IV., 469. 
Totter'd, IV., 211. 
Tottering throne, Int. I., 104. 
Touch mv charter, Int. VI. 

142. 
Trafalgar, Int. I., 82. 
Trained, IV., 462. 
Trapped, I., 92. 
Trent, V., 497. 
Trews, V. , 107. 
Trine, III., 373. 
Trow, I., 302. 
Trumpets IV., 110. 
Truncheon, IV., 121. 
Tunstall, Sir Brian, VI., 717. 
Tweed, Int. I., 14. 
TwiselGlen, VI., 280. 
Twisel Bridge, VI., 573. 
Tvne, IV., 192 
Tynemouth. II., 371. 



Umber'd, Int. v., 58. 
Unconfess'd, Int. I., 267. 
Underogating, Int. VI., 44, 
Unicorn, IV., 144. 
Unsparr'd, I., 56. 

Vail, III., 234; VI., 608. 
Varlets, VI., 892. 
Vaward, VI., 716. 
Vest, v., 278. 
Village inn. III. , 33. 
Virgin parchment. III., 370. 
Voluntary brand, Int. IV., 10. 
Voluntary line. Int. V. , 100. 

Wager of battle, II., 523. 
Wallace, Int. II., 113 ; III., 

508. 
Wallace's Trench, Int. II., 114. 
Wan. III., 16. 
Wansbeck, II., 136. 
Warbeck, I., 298. 
AVark, V., 1001. 
Warkworth, II., 143, 624. 
Warp'd, Int. III., 93. 
Wassel, I., 231 ; V., 172 : Int. VI.. 

64. 
Waste, Int. I., 235. 
Wede, VI., 1111. 
Weeds, Int. I., 256; V., 168. 
Well in case, I., 341. 
Wend, v., 861. 
Wheel, v., 147. 
When, I., 107. 
When as, I., 472. 
Whilere, Int. V., 139. 
Whilome, IV., 231. 
AVhin, IV., 502. 
Whitby Abbey, II., 9. 
Wicket, Int. v., 51. 
Widderington, II., 138. 
Wight (brave). Int. II., 113: Int. 

III., 197; III., 508. 
Wight (man). III., 444. 
Wimple, Y., 302. 
Windsor's oaks. Int. V., 180. 
Wines, V., 165. 
Wizard's grave, Int. II., 202. 
Wizard habit, III., 362. 
Woe betide, I., 340. 
Woe were we, I., 368. 



276 



INDEX TO NOTES 



Wolsey, Thomas, V., 691. 
Wont, II., 587; VI., 342. 
Wooler, v., 1021. 
Wore, II., 346. 
Wraith, Int. VL, 146. 

Yair, Int. I., 22. 
Yare, I., 134. 



Yarrow's Flower, Int. II., 196. 
Yawning graves, III., 408. 
Yclep'd, Int. IV., 172. 
Yode, III., 597. 
Ytene's oaks, Int. I., 312. 

Zembla, III., 79. 
Zone, III., 370. 



Longmans' English Classics 



Books prescribed for 1897 Examinations, p. 2. 

Books prescribed for 1898 Examinations, p. 3. 

Books prescribed for 1899 Examinations, p. 5. 

Books prescribed for 1900 Examinations, p. 6. 

Other Volumes in the Series, - - p. 7. 



LONGMANS' ENGLISH CLASSICS 

EDITED BY 

GEORGE RICE CARPENTER, A.B., 

Professor of Rhetoric and English Composition in Columbia College. 

This series is designed for use in secondary schools 
in accordance with the system of study recommended and 
outlined by the National Committee of Ten, and in direct 
preparation for the uniform entrance requirements in Eng- 
lish, now adopted by the principal American colleges and 
universities. 



Each Volume contains fu)l Notes, Introductions, Bibhographies, 
and other explanatory and illustrative matter. Crown 8vo, cloth. 



Books Prescribed for the i8gj Examinations. 

FOR READING. 

Shakspere's As You Like It. With an introduction by Barrett 
Wendell, A.B., Assistant Professor of English in Harvard 
University, and notes by William Lyon Phelps, Ph.D., Assistant 
Professor of English in Yale University. Portrait. 

Defoe's History of the Plague in London. Edited, with 
introduction and notes, by Professor G. R. Carpenter, of 
Columbia College. With Portrait of Defoe. 

Irving's Tales of a Traveller. With an introduction by 
Brander Matthews, Professor of Literature in Columbia College, 
and explanatory notes by the general editor of the series. 
With Portrait of Irving. 



LONGMANS' ENGLISH CLASSICS 



Books Prescribed for i8gy — Continued. 

George Eliot's Silas Marner. Edited, with introduction and 
notes, by Robert Herrick, A.B., Assistant Professor of Rhetoric 
in the University of Chicago. With Portrait of George Eliot. 

FOR STUDY. 

Shakspere's Merchant of Venice. Edited, with introduction 
and notes, by Francis B. Gummere, Ph.D., Professor of English 
in Haverford College; Member of the Conference on English 
of the National Committee of Ten. With Portrait. 

Burke's Speech on Conciliation with America. Edited, 
with introduction and notes, by Albert S. Cook, Ph.D., Professor 
of the English Language and Literature in Yale University. 
With Portrait of Burke. 

Scott's Marmion. Edited, with introduction and notes, by 
Robert Morss Lovett, A.B., Assistant Professor of English in 
the University of Chicago. With Portrait of Sir Walter Scott. 

Macaulay's Life of Samuel Johnson. Edited, with intro- 
duction and notes, by the Rev. Huber Gray Buehler, of the 
Hotchkiss School, Lakeville, Conn. With Portrait of Johnson. 



Books Prescribed for the i8g8 Examinations, 

FOR READING. 

Milton's Paradise Lost. Books L and IL Edited, with 
introduction and notes, by Edward Everett Hale, Jr., Ph.D., 
Professor of Rhetoric and Logic in Union College. With 
Portrait of Milton. 

Pope's Homer's Iliad. Books L, VL, XXIL, and XXIV. 
Edited, with introduction and notes, by William H. Maxwell, 
A.M., Ph.D., Superintendent of Public Instruction, Brooklyn, 
N. Y., and Percival Chubb, Instructor in English, Manual 
Training High School, Brooklyn. With Portrait of Pope. 



LONGMANS' ENGLISH CLASSICS 



Books Prescribed /or i8g8 — Continued. 

The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers, from "The Spectator." 
Edited, with introduction and notes, by D. O. S. Lowell, A.M., 
of the Roxbury Latin School, Roxbury, Mass. With Portrait 
of Addison. 

Goldsmith's The Vicar of Wakefield. Edited, with intro- 
duction and notes, by Mary A. Jordan, A.M., Professor of 
Rhetoric and Old English in Smith College. With Portrait of 
Goldsmith. 

Coleridge's The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. Edited, 
with introduction and notes, by Herbert Bates, A.B., Instructor 
in English in the University of Nebraska. With Portrait of 
Coleridge. 

Southey's Life of Nelson. Edited, with introduction and 
notes, by Edwin L. Miller, A.M., of the Englewood High 
School, Illinois. With Portrait of Nelson and plans of battles. 

Carlyle's Essay on Burns. Edited, with introduction and 
notes, by Wilson Farrand, A.M., Associate Principal of the 
Newark Academy, Newark, N. J. With Portrait of Burns. 



FOR STUDY. 

Shakspere's Macbeth. Edited, with introduction and notes, 
by John Matthews Manly, Ph.D., Professor of the English 
Language in Brown University. With Portrait of Shakspere. 

Burke's Speech on Conciliation with America. Edited, 
with introduction and notes, by Albert S. Cook, Ph.D., Pro- 
fessor of the English Language and Literature in Yale 
University. With Portrait of Burke. 

De Quincey's Flight of a Tartar Tribe. Edited, with intro- 
duction and notes, by Charles Sears Baldwin, Ph.D., Instructor 
in Rhetoric in Yale University, With Portrait of De Quincey. 

Tennyson's The Princess. Edited, with introduction and 
notes, by George Edward Woodberry, A.B., Professor of 
Literature in Columbia University. With Portrait of Tennyson. 



LONGMANS' ENGLISH CLASSICS 



^ooks Prescribed for the i8gg Examinations, 

Pope's Homer's Iliad. Books I., VI., XXII., and XXIV. 
Edited, with introduction and notes, by William H. Maxwell, 
A.M., Ph.D., Superintendent of Public Instruction, Brooklyn, 
N. Y., and Percival Chubb, Instructor in English, Manual 
Training High School, Brooklyn. With Portrait of Pope. 

Dryden's Palamon and Arcite. Edited, with introduction 
and notes, by James W. Bright, Ph.D., Professor of English 
Philology in Johns Hopkins University. \Preparing. 

The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers, from "The Spectator." 
Edited, with introduction and notes, by D. O. S. Lowell, A.M., 
of the Roxbury Latin School, Roxbury, Mass. With Portrait 
of Addison. 

Goldsmith's The Vicar of Wakefield. Edited, with intro- 
duction and notes, by Mary A. Jordan, A.M., Professor of 
Rhetoric and Old English in Smith College. With Portrait of 
Goldsmith. 

Coleridge's The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. Edited, 
with introduction and notes, by Herbert Bates, A.B., Instructor 
in English in the University of Nebraska. With Portrait of 
Coleridge. 

De Quincey's Flight of a Tartar Tribe. Edited, with intro- 
duction and notes, by Charles Sears Baldwin, Ph.D., Instructor 
in Rhetoric in Yale University. With Portrait of De Ouincey. 

Cooper's The Last of the Mohicans. With introduction and 
explanatory notes, by Charles F. Richardson, Ph.D., W^inkley 
Professor of the English Language and Literature in Dart- 
mouth College. U^i prepay atio7i. 

FOR STUDY. 

Shakspere's Macbeth. Edited, with introduction and notes, 
by John Matthews Manly, Ph.D., Professor of the English 
Language in Brown University. With Portrait of Shakspere. 

Milton's Paradise Lost. Books I. and II. Edited, with 
introduction and notes, by Edward Everett Hale, Jr., Ph.D., 
Professor of Rhetoric and Logic in Union College. With 
Portrait of Milton. 



LONGMANS' ENGLISH CLASSICS 



Books Prescribed for i8gg — Continued. 
Burke's Speech on Conciliation with America. Edited, 
with introduction and notes, by Albert S. Cooi<, Ph.D., Pro- 
fessor of the English Language and Literature in Yale Univer- 
sity. With Portrait of Burke. 

Carlyle's Essay on Burns. Edited, with introduction and 
notes, by Wilson Farrand, A.M., Associate Principal of the 
Newark Academy, Newark, N. J. With Portrait of Burns. 

Books Prescribed for the igoo Examinations, 

[See also Preceding Lists.) 
FOR READING. 

Dryden's Palamon and Arcite. Edited by Professor J. W. 

Bright. 
Pope's Homer's Iliad. Books L, VL, XXIL, and XXIV. 

Edited by Superintendent Maxwell and Percival Chubb. 
The Sir Roger de Coverley Papers. Edited by Dr. D. O. S. 

Lowell. 
Goldsmith's The Vicar of Wakefield, Edited by Professor 

Mary A. Jordan. 
De Quincey's Flight of a Tartar Tribe. Edited by Dr. C. 

S. Baldwin. 
Tennyson's The Princess. Edited by Professor G. E. Wood- 
berry. 
Scott's Ivanhoe. Edited by Professor Bliss Perry, of Princeton 

University. [In preparation. 

Cooper's The Last of the Mohicans. Edited by Professor 

Charles F. Richardson. [In preparation. 

FOR STUDY. 

Shakspere's Macbeth. Edited by Professor Manly. 

Milton's Paradise Lost. Books I. and II. Edited by Pro- 
fessor E. E. Hale, Jr. 

Burke's Speech on Conciliation with America. Edited by 
Dr. A. S. Cook. 

Macaulay's Essays on Milton and Addison. Edited by 
James Greenleaf Croswell, A.B. 



LONGMANS' ENGLISH CLASSICS 



The following volumes are also ready : 
Scott's Woodstock. Edited, with introduction and notes, by 
Bliss Perry, A.M., Professor of Oratory and Esthetic Criticism 
in the College of New Jersey. With Portrait of Sir Walter 
Scott. 
Macaulay's Essay on Milton. Edited, with introduction and 
notes, by James Greenleaf Croswell, A.B., Head-master of the 
Brearley School, New York, formerly Assistant Professor of 
Greek in Harvard University. With Portrait of Macaulay. 

Shakspere's a Midsummer Night's Dream. Edited, with 
introduction and notes, by George Pierce Baker, A.B., Assistant 
Professor of English in Harvard University. With Frontispiece, 
'Imitation of an Elizabethan Stage.' 

Webster's First Bunker Hill Oration, together with other 
Addresses relating to the Revolution. Edited, with introduction 
and notes, by Fred Newton Scott, Ph.D., Junior Professor of 
Rhetoric in the University of Michigan. With Portrait of 
Daniel Webster. 

Milton's L'Allegro, II Penseroso, Comus, and Lycidas. 
Edited, with introductions and notes, by William P. Trent, A.M., 
Professor of English in the University of the South. With 
Portrait of Milton. 



" The series as a whole certainly marks . . . a clear advance 
beyond all its predecessors." — The Educational Review^ February, 1896. 

" We have seen no fitter school editions of these works which are 
now included in the preparatory reading required by all the leading 
colleges of the country." — The Critic^ New York. 

" The Suggestions for Teachers are likely to be of great value, not 
only because many teachers need assistance in such work, but also 
because they must tend to introduce the uniformity of method that is 
hardly less valuable than the uniformity of the courses themselves," 

— The Educational Reviezu^ February, i8g6. 

"I take great pleasure in acknowledging the receipt of the two 
beautiful volumes in your English Classics. . . . They are not 
only thoroughly well edited, but excellent specimens of book-making, 
such books as a student may take pleasure in having, not merely for a 
task book but for a permanent possession. It is a wise project on your 
part, I think, to accustom young students to value books for their 
intrinsic worth, and that by the practical way of making the books good 
gnd attractive." — Prof. John F. Genung, Amherst College. 



LONGMANS' ENGLISH CLASSICS 



" You are to be congratulated upon the excellence of the series of 
English Classics which you are now publishing, if I may judge of it 
by the three numbers I have examined. . . .Of these, the intro- 
ductions, the suggestions to teachers, the chronological tables, and the 
notes are most admirable in design and execution. The editor-in-chief 
and his associates have rendered a distinct service to secondary schools, 
and the publishers have done superior mechanical work in the issue of 
this series." — Charles C. Ramsay, Principal of Durfee High School, 
Fall River, Mass. 

"With the two (volumes) I have already acknowledged and these 
four, I find myself increasingly pleased as I examine. As a series the 
books have two strong points: there is a unity of method in editing that 
I have seen in no other series; the books are freer from objections in 
regard to the amount and kind of editing than any other series I know." 
— Byron Groce, Master in English, Boston Latin School. 

'* I am your debtor for two specimens of your series of English 
Classics, designed for secondary schools in preparation for entrance 
examinations to college. With their clear type, good paper, sober and 
attractive binding — good enough for any library shelves — with their 
introductions, suggestions to teachers, and notes at the bottom of the 
pages, I do not see how much more could be desired." 

—Prof. D. L. Maulsby, Tufts College. 

"Admirably adapted to accomplish what you intend — to interest 
young persons in thoughtful reading of noble literature. The help given 
seems just what is needed; its generosity is not of the sort to make the 
young student unable to help himself. I am greatly pleased with the plan 
and with its execution." — Prof. C. B. Bradley, University of California; 
Member of English Conference of the National Committee of Ten. 

" Let me thank you for four more volumes of your excellent series 
of English Classics. ... As specimens of book-making they are 
among the most attractive books I have ever seen for school use; and the 
careful editing supplies just enough information to stimulate a young 
reader. I hope that the series may soon be completed and be widely 
used." — Prof. W. E. Mead, Wesleyan University, 

"The series is admirably planned, the ' Suggestions to Teachers* 
being a peculiarly valuable feature. I welcome all books looking toward 
better English teaching in the secondary schools." 

— Prof. Katherine Lee Bates, Wellesley College. 

" They are thoroughly edited and attractively presented, and cannot 
fail to be welcome when used for the college entrance requirements in 
English." — Prof. Charles F. Richardson, Dartmouth College, 



LONGMANS' ENGLISH CLASSICS 



Irving's ' Tales of a Traveller.' 

" I feel bound to say that, if the series of English Classics is 
carried out after the plan of this initial volume, it will contribute much 
toward making the study of literature a pure delight." 

—Prof. A. G. Newcomer, Iceland Stanford Jr. University. 

" I have looked through the first volume of your English Classics, 
Irving's ' Tales of a Traveller,' and do not see how literature could be 
made more attractive to the secondary schools." — Prof. Edward A, 
Allen, University of Missouri ; Member, of the English Conference of 
the National Committee of Ten. 

" I have received your Irving's ' Tales of a Traveller' and examined 
it with much pleasure. The helpful suggestions to teachers, the 
judicious notes, the careful editing, and the substantial binding make it 
the most desirable volume for class use on the subject, that has come to 
my notice." — Edwin Cornell, Principal of Central Valley Union 
School. N. Y. 

George Eliot's ' Silas Marner.' 

"This book is really attractive and inviting. The introduction, 
particularly the suggestions to pupils and teachers, is a piece of real 
helpfulness and wisdom." 

— D. E. Bowman, Principal of High School, Waterville, Me. 

"The edition of 'Silas Marner' recently sent out by you leaves 
nothing undone. I find the book handsome, the notes sensible and 
clear. I'm glad to see a book so well adapted to High School needs, 
and I shall recommend it, without reserve, as a safe and clean book to 
put before our pupils," 

— James W. McLane, Central High School, Cleveland, O. 

Scott's • Woodstock.* 

" Scott's ' Woodstock,' edited by Professor Bliss Perry, deepens the 
impression made by the earlier numbers that this series, Longmans' 
English Classics, is one of unusual excellence in the editing, and will 
prove a valuable auxiliary in the reform of English teaching now 
generally in progress. . . . We have, in addition to the unabridged 
text of the novel, a careful editorial introduction ; the author's intro- 
duction, preface and notes ; a reprint of ' The Just Devil of Woodstock'; 
and such foot-notes as the student will need as he turns from page to 
page. Besides all this apparatus, many of the chapters have appended 
a few suggestive hints for character-study, collateral I'eading and dis- 
cussions of the art of fiction. All this matter is so skillfully distributed 
that it does not weigh upon the conscience, and is not likely to make the 



LONGMANS' ENGLISH CLASSICS 



student forget that he is, after all, reading a novel chiefly for the 
pleasure it affords. The entire aim of this volume and its companions 
is literary rather than historical or linguistic, and in this fact their chief 
value is to be found." — The Dial. 

"I heartily approve of the manner in which the editor's work has 
been done. This book, if properly used by the teacher and supple- 
mented by the work so clearly suggested in the notes, may be made of 
great value to students, not only as literature but as affording oppor- 
tunity for historical research and exercise in composition." 

— Lillian G. Kimball, State Normal School, Oshkosh, Wis. 

Defoe's 'History of the Plague in London.' 

" He gives an interesting biography of Defoe, an account of his 
works, a discussion of their ethical influence (including that of this 
'somewhat sensational' novel), some suggestions to teachers and students, 
and a list of references for future study. This is all valuable and sugges- 
tive. The reader wishes that there were more of it. Indeed, the criticism 
I was about to offer on this series is perhaps their chief excellence. 
One wishes that the introductions were longer and more exhaustive. 
For, contrary to custom, as expressed in Gratiano's query, ' Who riseth 
from a feast with that keen appetite that he sits down ? * the young 
student will doubtless finish these introductions hungering for more. 
And this, perhaps, was the editor's object in view, viz., that the intro- 
ductory and explanatory rnatter should be suggestive and stimulating 
rather than complete and exhaustive ! " — Educational Revietv. 

" I have taken great pleasure in examining your edition of Defoe's 
' Plague in London.' The introduction and notes are beyond reproach, 
and the binding and typography are ideal. The American school-boy 
is to be congratulated that he at length may study his English from 
books in so attractive a dress." — George N. McKnight, Instructor in 
English, Cornell University. 

" I am greatly obliged to you for the copy of the Journal of the 
Plague.' I am particularly pleased with Professor Carpenter's intro- 
duction and his handling of the difficult points in De''Vs life." — Ham- 
mond Lamont, A.B., Associate Professor of Composition and Rhetoric 
in Brown University. 

Macaulay's ' Essay on Milton.' 

" I have examined the Milton and am much pleased with it ; it fully 
sustains the high standard of the other works of this series ; the intro- 
duction, the suggestions to teachers, and the notes are admirable." 

— William Nichols, The Nichols School, Buffalo, N. Y. 



LONGMANS' ENGLISH CLASSICS 



"I beg to acknowledge with thanks the receipt of Macaulay's 
' Essay on Milton ' and Webster's ' First Bunker Hill Oration ' in your 
series of English Classics. These works for preparatory study are 
nowhere better edited or presented in more artistic form. I am glad you 
find It possible to publish so good a book for so little money." 

— Prof. W. H. Crawshaw, Colgate University. 

" I am especially pleased with Mr. Croswell's introduction to, and 
notes at the bottom of the page of, his edition of Macaulay's ' Essay on 
Milton.' I have never seen notes on a text that were more admirable 
than these. They contain just the information proper to impart, and 
are unusually well expressed." 

— Charles C. Ramsay, Principal of Fall River High School. 

Coleridge's 'Ancient Mariner.' 

" After an introduction which is well calculated to awaken interest 
both in Coleridge himself and in poetry as a form of literature, the 
poem is set before us with Coleridge's own glosses in the margin. Notes 
are added at the bottom of each page. These notes are well worth 
examination for the pedagogic skill they display. They provide, not so 
much information about the text, though all necessary explanation does 
appear, but suggestion and incitement to the discovery by the pupil for 
himself of the elements in the poem which the hasty reader only feels, if 
h^ does not lose them altogether. . . . Any good teacher will find 
this edition a veritable help to the appreciation of poetry by his pupils." 
— Principal Ray Greene Huling, Engli-h High School, Cambridge, 
Mass. 

" Mr. Bates is an interesting and charming writer of verse as well as 
prose, and makes a helpful and appreciative teacher to follow through 
the intricacies of the poem in question. In addition to extensive notes 
and comments, the book has a well-planned, brightly written introduc- 
tion, comprising a Coleridge biography, bibliography, and chronological 
table, a definition of poetry in general, and a thoughtful study of the 
origin, form, ind criticisms of this particular poem, ' The Ancient 
Mariner.' Teachers and students of English are to be congratulated on. 
and Mr. Bates -^nd his publishers thanked for, this acquisition to the 
field of literary study." — Literary World, Boston. 

Milton's • L' Allegro, II Penseroso, etc' 

" Professor Trent's sympathetic treatment on the literary side of 
the subject matter, makes the introductions and notes of more than usual 
interest and profit ; and I think that it is just such editing as this that 
our younger students need in approaching the works of the great poets." 
- -J. Russell Hayes, Assistant Professor of English, Swarthmore 
College, Pa. 



LOjyCMAiVS' EXGLISH CLASSICS 



It has been the aim of the publishers to secure editors 
of high reputation for scholarship, experience, and skill, 
and to provide a series thoroughly adapted, by uniformity 
of plan and thoroughness of execution, to present educa- 
tional needs. The chief distinguishing features of the 
series are the following : 

I. Each volume contains lull *' Suggestions for Teach- 
ers and Students," with bibliographies, and, in many 
cases, lists of topics recommended for further reading or 
study, subjects for themes and compositions, specimen 
examination papers, etc. It is therefore hoped that the 
series will contribute largely to the working out of sound 
methods in teaching English. 

2. The works prescribed for fwiJifig are treated, in every 
case, as literature, not as texts for narrow linguistic study, 
and edited with a view to interesting the student in the 
book in question both in itself and as representative of a 
literary type or of a period of literature, and of leading 
him on to read other standard works of the same age or 
kind understandingly and appreciatively. 

3. These editions are not issued anonymously, nor are 
they hackwork, — the result of mere compilation. They 
are the original work of scholars and men of letters who 
are conversant with the topics of which they treat. 

4. Colleges and preparatory schools are both repre- 
sented in the list of editors (the preparatory schools more 
prominently in the lists for 1897 and 1898), and it is in- 
tended that the series shall exemplify the ripest methods 
of American scholars for the teaching of English — the 
result in some cases of years of actual experience in 
secondary school work, and, in others, the formulation of 
the experience acquired by professors who observe care- 
fully the needs of students who present themselves for 
admission to college. 

5. The volumes are uniform in size and style, are well 
printed and bound, and constitute a well-edited set of 
standard works, fit for permanent use and possession — a 
nucleus for a library of English literature. 



LONGMANS, GREEN, ^ CO.' S PUBLICATIONS. 



EPOCHS OF AMERICAN HISTORY. 

MESSRS. LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO. have the pleasure to state 
that they are now publishing a short series of books treating of the history 
of America, under the general title Epochs of American History, The 
series is under the editorship of Dr. Albert Bushnell Hart, Assistant 
Professor of History in Harvard College, who has also prepared all the maps 
for the several volumes. Each volume contains about 300 pages, similar in 
size and style to the page of the volumes in Messrs. Longmans' series, 
' Epochs of Modern History,' with full marginal analysis, working bibliogra- 
phies, maps, and index. The volumes are issued separately, and each is 
complete in itself. The volumes now ready provide a continuous history 
of the United States from the foundation of the Colonies to the present 
time, suited to and intended for class use as well as for general reading and 
reference, 

*jf* The volumes of this series already issued have been adopted for use as text- 
books in nearly all the leading Colleges and in many Normal Schools and other 
institutions. A prospectus, showing Contents and scope of each volume, specimen 
pages, etc., will be sent on application to the Publishers. 



I. THE COLONIES, 1492-1750. 

By Reuben Gold Thwaites, Secretary of the State Historical Society of 
Wisconsin; author of " Historic Waterways,'* etc. With four colored 
maps. pp. xviii.-30i. Cloth, $1.25. 

CORNELL university. 

*' I beg leave to acknowledge your courtesy in sending me a copy of the first 
volume in the series of ' Epochs of American History,' which I have read with 
great interest and satisfaction. I am pleased, as everyone must be, with the 
mechanical execution of the book, with the maps, and with the fresh and valua- 
ble 'Suggestions' and 'References.' .... The work itself appears to 
me to be quite remarkable for its comprehensiveness, and it presents a vast 
array of subjects in a way that is admirably fair, clear and orderly." — Professor 
Moses Coit Tyler, Ithaca, N. Y. 

V^ILLIAMS college. 

" It is just the book needed for college students, not too brief to be uninter- 
esting, admirable in its plan, and well furnished with references to accessible 
authorities."— Professor Richard A. Rice, Williamstown, Mass. 

VASSAR college. 

•' Perhaps the best recommendation of ' Thwaites' American Colonies * is 
the fact that the day after it was received I ordered copies for class-room use. 
The book is admirable."— Professor Lucy M. Salmon, Poughkeepsie, N, Y. 

" All that could be desired. This volume is more like a fair treatment of the 
whole subject of the colonies than any work of the sort yet produced.'' 

— The Critic. 

" The subject is virtually a fresh one as approached by Mr. Thwaites. It is 
a pleasure to call especial attention to some most helpful bibliographical notes 
provided at the head of each chapter '' — The Nation. 



LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., 91-93 Fifth Avenue, New York. 



LONGMANS, GREEN, &> CO: S PUBLICATIONS. 



EPOCHS OF AMERICAN HISTORY. 

II. FORMATION OF THE UNION, 1750-1829. 

By Albert Bushnell Hart, Ph.D. Assistant Professor of History in 
Harvard University, Member of the Massachusetts Historical Society, 
Author of "Introduction to the Study of Federal Government," 
"Epoch Maps," etc. With five colored maps. pp. XX.-278. Cloth. 
$1.25. 

The second volume of the Epochs of American History aims to follow 
out the principles laid down for "The Colonies," — the study of causes 
rather than of events, the development of the American nation out of scattered 
and inharmonious colonies. The throwing off of English control, the growth 
out of narrow political conditions, the struggle against foreign domination, and 
the extension of popular government, are all parts of the uninterrupted process 
of the Formation of the Union. 

LELAND STANFORD JR. UNIVERSITY. 

" The large and sweeping treatment of the subject, which shows the true re- 
lations of the events preceding and following the revolution, to the revolution 
itself, is a real addition to the literature of the subject ; while the bibliography 
prefixed to each chapter, adds incalculably to the value of the work." — Mary 
Sheldon Barnes, Palo Alto, Cal. 

" It is a careful and conscientious study of the period and its events, and 
should find a place among the text-books of our public schools." 

— Boston Transcript. 

" Professor Hart has compressed a vast deal of information into his volume, 
and makes many things most clear and striking. His maps, showing the terri- 
torial growth of the United States, are extremely interesting." 

— New York Times. 

" . . The causes of the Revolution are clearly and cleverly condensed into 
a few pages. . . The maps in the work are singularly useful even to adults. 
1 here are five of these, which are alone worth the price of the volume." 

— Magazine of American History. 

"The formation period of our nation is treated with much care and with 
great precision. Each chapter is prefaced with copious references to authori- 
ties, which are valuable to the student who desires to pursue his reading more 
extensively. There are five valuable maps showing the growth of our country 
by successive stages and repeated acquisition of territory." 

— Boston Advertiser,, 

•• Dr. Hart is not only a master of the art of condensation, ... he is 
what is even of greater importance, an interpreter of history. He perceives 
the logic of historic events ; hence, in his condensation, he does not neglect 
proportion, and more than once he gives the student valuable clues to the 
solution of historical problems." — Atlantic Monthly. 

" A valuable volume of a valuable series. The author has written with a 
full knowledge of his subject, and we have little to say except in praise." 

— English Historical Review. 



LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., 91-93 Fifth Avenue, New York. 



LONGMANS, GREEN, ^ CO:S PUBLICATIONS. 



EPOCHS OF AMERICAN HISTORY. 



III. DIVISION AND RE-UNION, 1829-1889. 

By WooDROW Wilson, Ph.D., LL.D., Professor of Jurisprudence in 
Princeton College J Author of "Congressional Government," "The 
State — Elements of Historical and Practical Politics," etc., etc. With 
five colored Maps. 346 pages. Cloth, $1.25. 

" We regret that we have not space for more quotations from this uncom 
monly strong, impartial, interesting book. Giving only enough facts to 
elucidate the matter discussed, it omits no important questions. It furnishes 
the reader clear-cut views of the right and the wrong of them all. It gives ad- 
mirable pen-portraits of the great personages of the period with as much free- 
dom from bias, and as much pains to be just, as if the author were delineating 
Pericles, or Alcibiades, Sulla, or Caesar. Dr. Wilson has earned the gratitude of 
seekers after truth by his masterly production."— M C. University Magazine. 

" This admirable little volume is one of the few books which nearly meet our 
deal of history. It is causal history in the truest sense, tracing the workings of 
.atent influences and far-reaching conditions of their outcome in striking fact, 
yet the whole current of events is kept in view, and the great personalities of 
the time, the nerve-centers of history, live intensely and in due proportion in 
these pages. We do not know the equal of this book for a brief and trust- 
worthy, and, at the same time, a brilliantly written and sufficient history of these 
sixty years. We heartily commend it, not only for general reading, but as an 
admirable text-book." — Post- Gradua/e and IVooster Quarterly. 

" Considered as a general history of the United States from 1829 to 1889, 
his book is marked by excellent sense of proportion, extensive knowledge, im- 
partiality of judgment, unusual power of summarizing, and an acute political 
sense. Few writers can more vividly set forth the views of parties." 

— Atlantic Monthly. 

" Students of United States history may thank Mr. Wilson for an extreme- 
ly clear and careful rendering of a period very difficult to handle . . . they 
will find themselves materially aided in easy comprehension of the political 
situation of the country by the excellent maps." — A'. Y Titnes. 

" Professor Wilson writes in a clear and forcible style. . . . The bibli- 
ographical references at the head of each chapter are both well selected and 
iwell arranged, and add greatly to the value of the work, which appears to be 
especially designed for use in instruction in colleges and preparatory schools." 

— Vale Review. 

'• It is written in a style admirably clear, vigorous, and attractive, a thorough 
grasp of the subject is shown, and the development of the theme is lucid and 
orderly, while the tone is judicial and fair, and the deductions sensible and 
dispassionate— so far as we can see. ... It would be difficult to construct 
a better manual of the subject than this, and it adds greatly to the value of this 
useful series." — Hartford Courant. 

". . . One of the most valuable historical works that has appeared in 
many years. The delicate period of our country's history, with which this 
work is largely taken up, is treated by the author with an impartiality that is 
almost unique." — Columbia Law Times. 



LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., 91-93 Fifth Avenue, New York. 



LONGMANS, GREEN, &> CO.'S PUBLICATIONS 

STUDIES IN AMERICAN EDUCATION. 

By Albert Bushnell Hart, Ph.D. i2mo, cloth, gilt top, $1.25. 

Contents : Has the Teacher a Profession ? — Reform in the Grammar 
Schools — University Participation, a Substitute for University Extension — 
How to Study History — How to Teach History in Secondary Schools — The 
Status of Athletics in American Colleges — Index. 

" This volume consists of six essays, each one excellent in its way." 

— Public Opinion, New York. 

" Prof. Hart is a keen observer and a profound thinker; he knows what 
American education is, and he knows what it ought to be . . . his whole 
treatment of the subject is vigorous and original. . . . He has a most helpful 
article on the study of history, and another equally significant on the teaching of 
history in the secondary schools." — Beacon, Boston. 

"The essays on 'How to Study and Teach History' are admirable. As 
education is a unit, the same methods can be applied in all grades. The relation 
of college curriculums to secondary schools is the underlying subject of the book, 
but it is still an open question whether secondary schools should justify their 
methods because they prepare for college, or whether they should assume the 
independent position, that they furnish such knowledge as is most requisite for 
boys and girls who can study till they are eighteen, but are not going to college. 
It is easily possible to take this attitude and yet have a preparatory class for 
Harvard in the same high school." — Literary World, Boston. 

"As for the essays themselves, however, only words of praise ought to be 
spoken. The style is clear, concise, active, enlivened by apt illustrations ; 
' breezy ' may perhaps be the word. The thought is practical and clear-headed, 
as Professor Hart always is, and the essays themselves have been ' brought down 
to date.'" — School Review, Hamilton, N. Y. 

" This new volume from the experience and pen of Professor Hart is one of 
practical interest, and a valuable addition to the rapidly increasing collection of 
works on pedagogy. . . . While all the chapters are interesting, perhaps the 
one most interesting to the general reader is that on ' How to Study History,' and 
here Mr. Hart shows his decided preferences for the topical method of study. 
This chapter should be read by all students of history and especially by those 
members of private classes, of which so many are to be found in our villages and 
clubs all through the country." — Transcript , Boston. 

" His studies have a decidedly practical tendency, and together constitute an 
addition to our steadily growing stock of good educational literature." 

— Dial, Chicago. 

" The author is especially fitted to write a volume which has the rare merit of 
treating current educational ideas not only from the standpoint of the teacher, 
but also of the pupil, the board of education and the public at large. The book 
will prove specially interesting and instructive to the general reader." 

Post Graduate, Wooster, Ohio. 

"Whatever Dr. Hart contributes to educational or historical literature is 
always worth reading, and teachers will find these essays very suggestive." 

School Review, Monroe, La. 



LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., 91-93 Fifth Avenue, New York. 



